Or Stay Like This Forever
by ahyperactivehero
Summary: Arthur was just a royal prat of a prince until Morgause came along and put a curse on him. Now he has a year to find someone who can love him and help him understand the true meaning of his destiny. Too bad all he has is an annoying secret warlock. Beauty and the Beast!AU. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

Okay so I know that I have another story going and I've left it hanging for several months now, but I promise you, I have not forgotten it.

This story just captured my attention and wouldn't let me leave it alone. Like, seriously, since July I've been constantly planning and writing. I already have over a hundred hand-written pages, yet it's not even really half way through. Really, this is going to be a long one.

Anyways, I just wanted to get that out of the way and sorry about leaving you waiting on Eyes Gone Cold. I should have it finished by the time I finish this one, although it might take longer to post…

* * *

Camelot was a flourishing land with many loyal subjects. The people who lived there were happy, prosperous, and generally lived in peace with each other and everyone.

That is of course unless you had magic.

Having magic in the kingdom of Camelot was like asking for death, whether it was from execution from the royal family who ruled over the land, or your panicky neighbors who, encouraged by the king's fear, would be more than happy to stone you to death or string you up from a tree.

The blond haired witch watched for years as Camelot slowly grew more and more against anything magical. Even innocent creatures such as unicorns and unborn dragons had been hunted and destroyed to near extinction.

Morgause knew that if she was patient enough, magic would return to the land, just as prophesized by the druids, at the hands of Emrys and the Once and Future King.

But being patient was difficult. She had watched many people who were brave and loyal and loving die at the hands of Uther and his hatred of magic. How could she stand by and do nothing while that was going on?

Morgause stood on the hill, overlooking the kingdom of Camelot. She thought again how hard being patient was as she made her way towards the citadel. She had left the armor she normally wore behind for this journey and instead opted for a simple red dress with an apron. Her long, curly blond hair was tied back into a loose ponytail, and she walked with her head held high and her back straight. The result was her looking like a noble attempting to dress like a servant which, had anyone really paid attention, would have been a dead giveaway.

She roamed through the city, barely paying attention to anyone. Her sights were set on one specific person, and everyone else was just in the way.

Finding the person she was looking for wasn't as hard as she had expected it to be. Several people were watching a young man in the middle of a circle twirling a sword around. Several girls giggled at the way he winked at them as he twirled his sword around again. A few men, dressed as Camelot knights, rolled their eyes discreetly at the prince's showboating.

"Anyone else want to have a go?" the prince asked haughtily. None of the knights stepped forward, to which Prince Arthur let out an arrogant, humorless laugh. "No one? No one thinks they can beat me?" Again, no one stepped forward.

"Quite right too," Arthur said, although the slight amusement that had been there was gone from his voice now, as if he was disappointed at the lack of a challenge.

With one last wink to some of the prettier girls standing around, he headed back up to the castle. He hollered over his shoulder for the knights who had been standing around to follow him.

Morgause shook her head at the young Pendragon's showboating. Young knights in Camelot were notorious for their skills and boastful nature, and it seemed that the prince was no different. If anything, he seemed almost worse.

It wasn't long before she found herself settling into a life in Camelot. Two days after her arrival she managed to blend into the castle with the servants and the slightest bit of magic.

She had no desire to serve as anyone or anything under a man like Uther, much less the man himself, but she had to if she was to get close to the Once and Future King. She had waited far too long, and if Arthur ended up not being this man of legend then it would all be for nothing.

Morgause would be lying if she said that the young prince was everything she had expected him to be. She'd be lying if she said he was even half that.

He was arrogant. He was obnoxious. He was nothing but trouble for the entire castle. He couldn't even keep a manservant for more than a week.

And Morgause knew why. If he wasn't forcing the poor servants to run themselves ragged on chores, he was using them as target practice. If he wasn't using them as target practice, he was forcing them to do ridiculous stunts for his and the knight's amusement. All in all, it was rather shameful and disappointing.

A week as all it took for Morgause to see that Arthur was no better than Uther.

She watched as five sorcerers were burned alive in as many days, each time desperately wanting to help them but knowing that she couldn't. Not without risking and revealing herself. She watched as Arthur bullied servants and everyone else below him, or even thought of as below him.

Surely this couldn't be the man who was supposed to bring magic back to the land and unite everyone unto Albion. She wasn't exactly expecting him to be all unicorns and rainbows, he was Uther's son after all, but she had never expected him to be as harsh as he was. Given much more time, and he would become nothing but another Uther.

"Will you take these to the prince for me?" a young serving girl asked one night. Morgause had been lingering in the kitchens that night, wondering what would be the best way to approach the prince. Something had to be done about his attitude and general outlook on life.

Morgause turned towards the maid servant. The young girl's name slipped her mind, but she was sure it was something along the lines of Gwen. Her brown eyes darted nervously towards the meal that had been prepared and was waiting to be picked up.

"Prince Arthur's new manservant quit earlier today, leaving no one to bring him his dinner. I would do it but," she waved over towards another meal waiting to be taken out. "I have to attend to the Lady Morgana."

Morgause nodded her head and gave a small smile to reassure her. This would be the perfect way for her to get close to the Prince of Camelot.

"I'll see to it," she said and quickly picked the plates up. The maid servant released an uneasy sigh, looking very relieved that she had found someone to attend to the prince.

When Morgause arrived at Arthur's room bearing two plates filled with food, she was surprised to see him standing in front of his chambers, arguing with a servant.

"You idiot! Just what do you think you were doing?" Arthur bellowed, going slightly red in the face. "I told you that I needed my armor polished, stables mucked out, and just where is my dinner?!"

The servant began to stutter out apologies, backing up into the wall in fear of Arthur. Morgause recognized him as one of the newer servants, and someone who was constantly trying to do his best at his work.

Despite Morgause's low opinion of Arthur, she knew that the prince wouldn't hit the servant.

But even though she knew this, it didn't stop her anger from rising up within her. The boy obviously believed that Arthur was going to strike him, enough that he raised up his hands in fear.

"What's going on here?" Morgause asked, no longer able to stay silent. The prince swung his head around, looking for whoever had dared to question him.

Arthur looked livid when he noticed that it was a servant who had questioned him. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

Morgause shifted the plates filled with food in her hands. "I could ask you the same thing," she said, narrowing her eyes at the prince.

Arthur stood there, dumbfounded for a moment. How dare this serving girl talk that way to him. "And just who do you think you are?" he asked, stepping closer to Morgause. Neither one of them paid much mind as the young serving boy took off running past Morgause.

"A person who is going to teach you a lesson that you should have learned years ago," she said simply and placed the food down on the floor.

Arthur let out a short bark of laughter, the kind he often used when teasing and bullying servants and knights alike. "You? Teach me a lesson?" He took another step towards Morgause, almost daring her to do something.

She gave him a smile, one that only held fake innocence and no kindness. Were Arthur not a prince, and thus too brave to be frightened by mere serving girls, he would have shuddered at the look on her face.

"Yes, a lesson. A lesson in humility, love, kindness, and respect," she said. She slowly crossed her arms over her chest and gave him another withering glare. "All traits that a future king should have, wouldn't you agree?"

Arthur let out a snort of annoyance, obviously tiring of the way that Morgause was speaking to him. "All traits I already have. Seems to me like these are traits that you should be showing me, you prince, right now," Arthur said.

Morgause resisted the urge to hiss at the young and arrogant prince. "I have no desire to show any of these things to such an arrogant child," she said. She could feel her magic welling up in her, urging her to punish the prince, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to hold it back for long.

"You can't talk to me like that," Arthur said, his face going even redder than before.

"I just did." Morgause gave him another smirk.

She stepped forward to the prince, holding out her hand as she walked. Despite not wanting to, Arthur took a step backwards.

His back collided with his door, pushing it open slightly. He reached for his sword, only to remember that he had given it to the serving boy earlier, before he had quit, to be cleaned and sharpened.

Morgause realized what Arthur was doing and smirked, taking two more steps. Soon she felt her magic well up in her, causing her eyes to glow gold.

"You're a sorcerer," Arthur said, finally backing into his room. Morgause could see the fear in the young prince's eyes as he realized his opponent was not just a serving girl with guts.

"Well it seems you aren't totally useless," she said. Her hand was still raised as she forced the prince into the middle of his chambers.

Arthur's eyes cast around for anything that he might use as a weapon. When he saw none that were within reach, or likely to harm the witch, he forced himself to stare into Morgause's eyes.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, although it was rather a dumb question. What did it matter what the witch wanted from him? She was going to kill him anyways.

Morgause froze for a second, mock confusion crossing her face. "Why, I already told you, Arthur. I want to teach you a lesson. It's too late for your father to learn it, but I hope it's not too late for you," Morgause said honestly.

Her hand began to glow, a blue light pulsing out from the center. It was such a brilliant light that Arthur was forced to cover his eyes.

While his eyes were covered, Morgause took the final step to Arthur. She ran her hand almost lovingly down the length of his arms, finally stopping when she had both of her hands clasping his.

"You are a horrible man, Arthur. You are the prince of this land, the future king! You should be defending its people with all your heart and soul, but instead you mock them. You _slaughter_ them. How many people have to die before you realize that your father is not always right? Before you realize your destiny?" Morgause spoke confidently, releasing his hands once she was done.

Arthur collapsed to the floor, holding his head in his hands. He felt like he was on fire, like his bones were snapping, like he was _dying._

"Guards," he called weakly, although he knew it was hopeless. He had forced the guards into doing chores for him earlier once his newest manservant had quit. They were probably still trying to figure out where Arthur's favorite shirt had went to, all while he was being murdered by a sorcerer in his own chambers.

"It's too late, Arthur," she said, her voice filtering through the hazy pain in Arthur's mind. "The spell has been completed."

Arthur looked up at Morgause from his spot on his knees. "What spell? What did you do to me?" he asked, his voice dark and raspy.

Her eyes watched as Arthur struggled to get back on his feet. "I've shown you for what you really are on the inside, or what you'll become before too long."

Arthur resisted the urge to flinch at the witch's sinister words and smirk. "Which is?"

Morgause smile only grew wider and even more sinister.

"A monster."

His eyes widened as he finally struggled to his feet. Morgause didn't even seem to care that Arthur had almost toppled into her in his haste to get his numb and nearly unresponsive body to cooperate.

He cast around for something to see himself with, to no avail. The mirror that he usually used was across the room, too far away and at such an angle that made it impossible for him to see. He also didn't want to risk running past the witch to see himself in the mirror.

He spun around, almost falling onto the ground from being so unbalanced. His hands gripped the chair at the table that he usually wrote reports and ate dinner at.

That's when he noticed his hands.

Claws were where his finger nails should have been. The claws weren't over grown fingernails either; they were claws, like the kind that a bear might have.

He flexed his fingers, just to make sure they were really his. Arthur gasped when they moved as he told them to, his heart pounding in his chest as how wrong this all was.

His _claws_ dug into the chair, breaking the wood and ripping the padding.

He growled and jumped slightly at the sound when he realized that it was a _real growl_. He spun around, knocking the chair to the floor with a clatter.

Arthur barely caught his reflection in the window; at least, he was sure it was supposed to be him. The…._thing_ was standing where he was anyways.

Slowly he brought a clawed hand to his face and flinched when the creature's reflection did the same.

"No," Arthur whispered. The creature did to the same thing.

There was no way this thing was supposed to be him. That creature standing in his room wasn't him, it was a trick. Yes, that's all it was, a trick.

But it still looked awfully real. Gone was the prince's golden hair that shown as bright as magic in the sunlight, leaving only a bald head scarred by deep black, silver, and purple designs that resembled veins. Half of his face was disfigured, as if it had been burned by a fire, while the other side of his face was traced in the swirling black and silver designs as if they had been etched into it with a knife. His eyes widened at the sight of his face, and then he noticed his eyes. Instead of the sparkling blue they usually were, they were red, a red darker than the expensive rubies Morgana wore. His mouth opened to speak, but he had to stop when a sharp pain and a metallic taste filled it. His teeth were sharp, coming to a point like a wolf's although slightly crooked.

"What did you do to me?" he asked with his voice low and growly.

Morgause smiled, although this one longer held any malice. It was almost regretful, although what she had to feel regretful about, Arthur didn't know. It was her fault this had happened anyways.

"I showed you for what you really are, which is a monster," Morgause said, repeating her words from earlier. "You've committed many despicable acts against magic users. You've slaughtered them, hunted them, and forced them into hiding, lest they be caught and executed for crimes they didn't commit," Morgause said. "After all, how can you consider being born a crime?"

Arthur's legs gave out and he collapsed to his chamber floor in shock. This couldn't be happening to him. "Guards!" he weakly called, hoping that they had returned by now. Surely they wouldn't leave their prince alone for so long.

"Because if that were the case, then you would be the worst offender," Morgause said. She took another step towards Arthur, and then another, until she was standing directly in front of him. Once there she kneeled down, whispering as if she was letting him in on a closely guarded secret.

"You're a prince who was conceived with magic, yet your family still shuns it. But it's not just the magical part of the kingdom that you've committed crimes against. You treat your servants horribly, like their slaves there only to provide amusement for those of your station or higher. You are the future King of Camelot, yet you act no better than a spoiled child. It is your job to protect its people, not belittle them."

Morgause ran her hand down Arthur's arm again, sending cold chills spiking throughout his body. With that done, she stood and walked to the center of the room, her words blurring together in Arthur's somewhat hazy mind.

"But because I believe that you can still be a great king someday and that you are still able to change, I'll make you a deal." Arthur looked up at Morgause, carefully watching her movements.

"I'll give you one year," she said, holding up a single finger, "One year to prove that you can be redeemed. To prove that even you can still be loved and love someone back. Or else."

"Or else what?"

The smirk returned to Morgause's face again, her brown eyes flashing gold once. The doors began to pound as the guards called out for their prince, finally realizing that something had gone wrong.

"Or you can just stay like this forever."

And with a flash of gold eyes and whirl wind of magic, Morgause was gone, leaving the newly cursed prince all alone on the ground.

* * *

AN: No one wants to listen to how busy an online writer is, but with senior year of high school, two college classes, and a part time job, it can get hard to update. So I am sorry about my delay in writing. This story should be updated most likely weekly, perhaps even more often, but if it's not I apologize in advance.

Til' later!

XXX


	2. Chapter 2

"Prince Arthur! Prince Arthur!" the guards yelled, banging on the door with their fists, some trying to open the door and only succeeding in jiggling the handle up and down. No matter how hard they tried, they just couldn't get the door open.

Arthur wasn't sure how long he sat on the floor of his room before he became aware of the guards' frantic calls. He spared no thought to his sudden monstrous appearance as he rushed from the floor to the door to let the guards in. He had to warn everyone so they could capture that witch and have her reverse whatever it was she had done to him.

Once he reached the door to his chambers it only took a second for him to throw it open. In the doorway stood three guards, swords drawn and ready to take down whatever thing had attacked their prince.

Unfortunately for Arthur, he looked like this _thing_.

The guards let out gasps of surprise, and before Arthur could even open his mouth they attacked.

The guards forced Arthur back into his chambers, their swords pointed directly at Arthur. Had this been a normal day for Arthur, he would have been outraged at being attacked by his own guards. As it was, he was too much shock to truly feel anything.

"What have you done to our prince?" one of the guards asked, stepping forward and driving the point of his sword into Arthur's chest. It was just enough pressure to make Arthur take a step back again, drawing the tiniest bit of blood through the fabric of his shirt.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. His voice was low and dark and gravely, completely different from his normal voice. With his sudden change in appearance and his voice so different, it was hardly a wonder that they didn't recognize him.

"It can speak!" another one of the guards said, taking a swing at Arthur with his sword.

The blade grazed Arthur's arm, just deep enough to cut his sleeve open and leave a thin line of blood behind. A roar tore unwillingly from Arthur's throat, causing the guards to panic and attack all at once.

Multiple swords swung at Arthur from all directions, forcing him to back up. He kept backing up until his foot collided with the end of his bed, causing him to trip and fall to the floor. He could feel blood rising to his skin and dripping down his arms onto the floor.

In his ears he could hear a dull roar, the kind before he usually passed out and gave into the black spots growing across his vision. Underneath all that, he could hear the guards shouting at him, demanding to know where their prince was.

"It's me!" Arthur yelled, although he doubted that the guards could actually understand or even hear him.

"It's me, Prince Arthur!" he cried again, his voice slightly more his own. He resisted the dark urge inside his head that was whispering to attack the guards who were attacking him first. It was a primal instinct, almost animalistic.

Slowly the guards stopped their onslaught on their prince, momentarily confused by the monster's voice. It had sounded a little too much like their prince's voice for comfort.

"Prince Arthur?" one of the guards asked. He lowered his sword to look at the monstrous person huddled on the floor. Nothing about the person looked like their prince, but there was no denying that voice. Now that the growl had faded from it, it was obviously their prince's.

"Finally," Arthur said, anger and pain seeping into his voice. These guards had almost killed the future King of Camelot, all because they had refused to listen to him.

"Someone fetch King Uther. And the court physician!" the guard called out to another guard closer to the door. The young guard nodded his head and took off, intent to complete his mission quickly.

Arthur looked up at the guard with ruby red eyes. His eye lids drooped slightly, weakness from the curse, shock, and slight blood loss finally taking its toll on him.

"You've sent for Gaius?" Arthur questioned, his voice taking on a drowsy tone. "Good, because I think I'm going to need to be seen to."

And with that, Arthur Pendragon slumped the rest of the way to the floor, out like a light.

XXXX

Three months. Nearly three months later, and Arthur was still stuck looking like a beast.

Time passes differently when you're out and away from nearly everyone and everything. In fact, it hardly seemed to pass at all for Arthur.

He paced up and down the length of the large entry room near the doorway, impatient, just like he was every time.

The only way he ever got any information about the outside world, or more specifically Camelot, was whenever Gaius came to visit him in this dreadful place. Arthur resisted the urge to let out the animalistic growl that tended to burst out of him when he thought about being trapped here, and the situation that had led him there.

Once the guards had stopped attacking him and finally sent for his father and Gaius, it became quickly apparent how strong the curse was. Even though he had passed out the claws, teeth, and other changes still remained.

By the time his father and Gaius had arrived the guards had managed to maneuver the newly cursed prince into his bed, which was not an easy feat, considering Arthur was too far under to be of any help.

After cleaning the prince's wounds (which were completely healed mere hours later), and somehow managing to convince Uther that the strange looking person on the bed was actually Arthur and not something that was bent on destroying Camelot, Gaius began to look for a cure or someway to reverse the curse.

Two days later, and a lot of questions from both Gaius and his father, and Arthur was ready to rip his hair out. That is, if the curse had left any.

It was two days after that that Uther decided that something needed to be done about Arthur and his new condition. He had allowed Gaius to use all the _tools_ necessary to reverse whatever had happened to Arthur, yet he had nothing to show for it.

The king knew that Arthur couldn't be allowed to stay in Camelot, or at least couldn't be allowed to stay in the castle any longer. Servants were already beginning to get curious as to why the prince had been confined to his chambers the past four days, and why only the King and Gaius were allowed in. Even the Lady Morgana had been denied the right into his rooms, much to her (and everyone else in the vicinity's) displeasure.

Rumors about the prince began to fly. They would say he was sick, so sick that he was dying. Another popular rumor was that his guards had been enchanted and attacked their prince.

Nobody knew the truth of course, expect for Uther, Gaius, and the guards from that night, and Uther wanted to keep it that way. So he did the only thing he could think of.

Within less than a week Uther had ordered several men to clean out one of the manors relatively near the castle that had fallen into disuse when it's previous owners had died. It now belonged to Uther, and it would make for the perfect place for the prince to hide out in until a cure could be found.

The manor hadn't been used in years, which was apparent from the smell and the dust that covered really everything. The men had brought in a clean bed, refreshed and restocked the kitchen, and tided up a few of the entry ways.

Once the manor was restore enough to be deemed livable, although not truly comfortable, Uther put in action the next part of his plan. Uther, with Gaius's help of course, dressed Arthur up in full knight's gear, helmet and all, and claimed that he was going on a quest that he must go through to become the Crown Prince of Camelot.

As Arthur had sat upon his steed, covered completely just in case someone got too close and noticed anything was off about him, he had stare out at everyone gather there. His people had cheered for their brave prince that would obviously be going off on some sort of perilous quest if the amount of armor he wore was anything to go by. It made Arthur angry that he was being sent away like the ugly step child in those fairy tales that Morgana used to read, but he knew that he would have to deal with it, at least for a little while.

Besides, how long would it take for Gaius come up with a cure anyways? Surely not too long, there was a reason he was the court physician and so heavily relied on by his father.

At first Arthur thought he'd be gone for a few days, a week at most, and then he'd be back training his knights and being his handsome, princely self. But then a week passed, then another, until before he knew it three months had gone by and he was still a beast trapped in a small version of a rundown castle.

Every two weeks Gaius would come by and inspect the young prince while also bringing more supplies so he could keep on living in the manor. No progress had been made in finding a cure yet, but that didn't stop Arthur from anxiously hoping and pacing right before Gaius was due to arrive.

Arthur glanced towards the door, hoping to see or hear Gaius coming. Ever since the curse had been cast his hearing had improved so much that, if motivated, he could listen to sounds nearly a league away. If properly motivated that is.

He could hear the sounds of two horses drawing closer to the manor, and if he listened a bit closer, the sound of Gaius talking to someone.

That was odd. No one else had ever accompanied Gaius on his mission to bring the prince more supplies. Despite having known Gaius since he was born, Arthur suddenly felt fear and betrayal rear its ugly head inside his heart.

Gaius had brought someone else to the manor, the manor that Arthur was unfortunate enough to call home until he could be changed back. There was no way he could allow anyone else to see him like this.

The horses stopped outside the manor, and Arthur did the only thing he could think of; he hid. Without a single thought to what he was doing, he sprinted over to one of the tapestries that he spent his first month shredding to pieces, and launched himself at it. His claws sank into it, and he began to pull himself up it as if it were as simple as a cat climbing a tree.

Once Arthur reached the top, he jumped over to one of the high beams that ran the length of the ceiling for support. When he had first arrived at the manor he had been overwhelmed with the animalistic urge to destroy. He had felt like a caged animal, like there wasn't enough space in the world for him to be free, so he spent a lot of time climbing and shredding to get rid of some of the excess energy he was currently cursed with.

Three months later and that energy had only been tamed slightly.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure this is the right place, my boy," Gaius's voice filtered up from below. A moment later one of the large double doors pushed open, and Gaius stepped inside, his shadow long on the floor in front of him.

Arthur squinted his red eyes down to the floor below, trying to see who he had brought along with him. Had Uther finally come to visit Arthur, after three long months of complete silence from his father? But Gaius had said 'boy' and Uther might be many things, but 'boy' he was not.

"Whoa, this place is huge," another voice said from just beyond the door way. "And only one person lives here? All by themselves?"

Gaius sighed as he turned back to look at who ever was at the doorway. He seemed rather put upon, like he had been dealing with many questions before now. "Yes, he lives here alone. Now, if you would, please take those bags to the kitchen for me."

Arthur held his breath as he waited for whoever was outside to get the bags of food for the kitchen from the horses. Suddenly a head popped into the doorway, looking around the entrance of the manor in something similar to awe.

Arthur squinted down at the person below. Gaius has been right when he had called him a 'boy'. The boy couldn't be much older than nineteen, although he looked even younger than that due to his messy black hair and giant blue eyes that nearly dominated his face.

"Gaius?" the boy called out. His blue eyes searched the giant entryway, looking for the old man he had traveled there with.

Even from this distance Arthur could see the annoyance rolling off of the boy in waves. He stepped fully into the room and turned around to shut the rather large door. With a small amount of struggling and grunting, he finally managed to shut the door, plunging the entryway into a dusty dimness.

The boy hefted the bags filled with food up higher onto his shoulders as he looked around. He seemed to be taking in everything about the room, although it was apparent that he was looking for something or someone.

"Hello?" the boy called. His voice was low and it seemed almost whispery. He glanced around, as if he expected someone or something to jump out at him.

Arthur crept along the beam, following the boy as he made his way across the room. His claws dragged along the wood, occasionally sinking in whenever he paused for too long.

"Merlin! Where are you?" Gaius's voice called from one of the other rooms.

Arthur watched the boy's retreating form as he went to help Gaius with whatever he needed. He couldn't help but wonder who the boy was and why he had accompanied Gaius to Arthur's new 'home'.

All too soon Gaius and Merlin walked back to the entryway, their packs now empty and headed for the door.

Merlin slowed down his walk and let his eyes roam over the room. "You never told me who lives here, you know," he said. His big blue eyes landed near Arthur and for a moment Arthur feared he had been spotted. His heart beat slowly returned to normal when Merlin's gaze simply slid over Arthur, as if he wasn't there at all.

Gaius stopped near the doorway, waiting for the boy to make his way to him. "I suppose I didn't," he said in a tone that clearly meant he was avoiding the whole situation.

"So are you going to?" Merlin asked, trying and failing to appear nonchalant.

Gaius sighed. "This manor belongs to Lord Edward. He doesn't get many visitors, and he's a bit of a recluse," Gaius said.

Arthur held back the urge to laugh at his new name and title. He was _Prince Arthur _of_ Camelot, _not some lowly Lord with a bit of land and a rundown manor.

Merlin didn't appear to be satisfied with such little information about whose home they had stumbled into. "Should we let him know that we've leaving? Or that we were even here in the first place?"

Gaius reached over to Merlin when he finally came close enough to him and put a hand on his back to lead him more firmly to the door. "Believe me when I say, he already knows that we're here."

Merlin opened his mouth to question Gaius some more, but he gave him a gentle shove out the door. With one final look up to where Arthur was perched on the rafters, they were gone.

* * *

A/N: So that was chapter two! I was originally going to type a little bit more, but I donated blood today, and so I'm not totally and completely hear right now. The next chapter will involve more Merlin though, and it should be posted about this time next week.

Til' later!

P.S. I would just like to say : HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOE! I HOPE YOU HAVE AN AWESOME 18TH BIRTHDAY! :D


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin walked through the gates of Camelot, hefting his bag higher onto his shoulders as he went. He'd never been to a place as big as Camelot, hell; he'd never been to anywhere half the size of Camelot.

The entire city seemed to be teeming with life. People stood at their stalls, shouting their wares to people passing by. Children ran through the streets, happy smiles on their faces and mothers trailing along behind them.

He walked up the path that would lead to the castle and hopefully to the physician's chambers. He thought about the letter his mother had sent with him, explaining everything that was going on and that he would be staying with him for a little while. Or at least's that's what his mother had told him, as he hadn't actually been allowed to read the letter.

Quickly, he approached a group of people all clustered around something in the courtyard. They were nearly silent, quietly murmuring between each other. There was obviously something serious going on here, although Merlin couldn't see or guess what.

"For crimes against the crown and performing magic in Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, sentence you to death," a voice boomed from up above the crowd on a balcony.

With a wave of Uther's hand, the man's head was lopped off, rolling away and towards the crowd.

Merlin flinched at the sight of the man's execution. The man's body was quickly taken away from the crowd, someone walking towards them to pick up the bloody head. He resisted the urge to run away from the executioner's stand, knowing that if he wasn't careful that could be him one day.

He glanced back to see the supposed 'sorcerer' as he walked away to find Gaius's chambers. Silently he prayed that his mother hadn't made a grave mistake by sending him to Camelot.

XXX

Merlin quickly learned that life in Camelot was a bit faster paced that Ealdor. Quite a bit different too, and he was constantly running off to deliver this or deliver that to Lords and Ladies and peasents alike, who needed medicines from the physician.

While he was staying with Gaius he was supposed to be training and honing his magic, but there didn't seem to be much need for it, because aside from the unfortunately railing and bed incident when he first met Gaius and the water bucket when Gaius was testing him, there had been no magical outbursts. It was as if his magic was currently waiting for something, or maybe it was searching for something. Either way, it appeared to be on its best behavior and that worried him. It couldn't stay like that for long.

He was just returning from one of his early morning deliveries to one of the families in the lower town when he almost ran into Gwen.

"Oh, hello, Gwen!" he said as he forced himself to stop before he ran into her.

Gwen looked equally as surprised to see Merlin as she came to a stop. "Merlin," she said with one of her charming and sweet smiles on her face. "I thought I saw you headed into the lower towns?"

Merlin looked down at his feet and kicked at some dirt. "Yeah, just got back up here actually," he said. He reached out to take one of the baskets Gwen was carrying to ease the girl's load.

"Thank you," Gwen said sincerely as she shifted her own basket filled with laundry. "I was afraid that I was going to drop them."

Merlin glanced down to the fine linens in his own basket. "Are these all Lady Morgana's? Merlin asked as they began walking again.

Gwne nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid I've fallen a bit behind on some of my chores lately and washing clothes is one of them."

In the short time Merlin had been in Camelot, he'd never known the young maid servant to be anything but efficient with her job. It wasn't like her to be behind on chores.

"Why the overwhelming amount of chores?" Merlin asked as Gwen led them toward the laundry room to begin her chores.

Gwen sighed as she side stepped two guards walking down the hallway. "The Lady Morgana has been rather stressed lately, and she's been speaking out against the king. So thus, more chores for the rest of the servants in the castle when the king is not happy, and whenever he and his ward are fighting. It's always been like this."

Merlin winced as he thought of Morgana talking back to the king. She was probably the only one in the whole world who could even think about doing such a thing and not be executed.

"Why is the Lady Morgana so stressed?" Merlin asked, hoping that nothing too serious was going on. The Lady Morgana had been nothing but kind to him whenever he had spoke to her, and he knew that Gwen was not only Lady Morgana's servant, but her friend as well.

Gwen fumbled her basket and quickly sat it on the floor before she could drop it. With a swipe of the hand she brushed her hair out of her face and picked up the basket again. "Well honestly everyone's a bit stressed, I mean, the whole thing with Prince Arthur has everyone on edge and- well it's just a bit much I suppose," Gwen said.

Merlin furrowed his brows at Gwen as he pushed open the door to the laundry room and held it open for her. He hadn't heard anything about the Prince since coming to Camelot aside from the fact that he wasn't around.

"What 'thing' with the prince?" he asked, helping Gwen to place the laundry in a wash bin.

Her face darkened in a deep blush as she stared down at her hands and the laundry. "Oh," Gwen said, "I wasn't supposed to say anything! You must forget that I said anything!"

Merlin held his hands up in a placating gesturing as Gwen stumbled over her words. "Alright, alright, I know nothing!" he said, a slight teasing tone in his voice. The light and mischievous look in his eyes must have helped to reassure Gwen that he wouldn't say anything.

Gwen looked Merlin directly in the eye for a moment, her face completely serious, before cracking a smile and breaking out in a fit of giggles. They seemed to be contagious, because soon Merlin was laughing along as well.

Another servant walked in about that time and glanced back and forth between Merlin and Gwen. He looked rather uncertain as to whether he should interrupt whatever it was the two of them had been doing before he'd walked in.

"Um, are you Merlin?" the servant asked, wringing his hands in apprehension. Merlin gave him a quick nod, just barely managing to rein in his giggles. "I was sent by Gaius to find you. He says that he needs you as soon as possible."

The servant was gone soon after that, having delivered his message as he was supposed to. Merlin gave Gwen a sheepish grin as he began to leave. "I'll talk to you later, alright?" he said before heading out the door.

He could just barely hear Gwen's quick shout of 'bye' before he was out of earshot and headed to Gaius's chambers.

XXXX

He expected Gaius to be in a rushed and panicked state over some poor unfortunate, sick or dying soul when he entered his chambers, not calmly walking around the room packing.

Merlin froze slightly in the doorway, unsure if he should do something or not. "Gaius?" Merlin asked uncertainly.

Gaius finally seemed to notice that Merlin had entered and paused in his packing. "Ah, Merlin! Just the person I wanted to see," he said. He tossed a bag over to the boy and motioned to some of the things on the table. "Could you pack them for me, my boy?"

Merlin nodded and quickly began to pack the things on the table. He soon realized that they were clothes, clothes that were much too big for Merlin and made of finer quality materials than Gaius or him normally wore.

"Who are these for?" Merlin asked as he shoved them into a bag. He knew that Gaius would likely be irritated later with this complete lack of care as he packed the bag, almost guaranteeing that there would be wrinkles later.

Gaius waved off his question, either not wanting Merlin to know or thinking that it wasn't important at the moment. The old man turned around, his physician's basket with the woven lid tucked under his arm. "Have you finished packing those?" he asked, gesturing to the pack.

Merlin glanced down and noticed that while his mind had been wondering over what was going on, his hands had already finished stuffing the clothes into the bag. "Uh, yeah," he said slightly uncertainly. He flashed his mentor a smile before pulling the pack onto his back. "So where are we going?"

Gaius gave a good natured sigh at his ward's healthy dose of curiosity. Hunith had warned him that her son tended to have a bit of a curious streak, and Gaius was now seeing what she meant by that.

"I'll tell you on the way," Gaius explained as he ushered Merlin out the door. "Now, the horses are waiting for us down at the stables."

Merlin raised his eye brows at Gaius's statement. "Horses? Are we going that far away?" he asked, following his mentor down the hallways and towards the stables.

"I'll tell you on the way," Gaius repeated, much to Merlin's displeasure. He sighed and hoisted the bag filled with clothes higher onto his shoulders. For whatever reason Gaius was keeping secrets and Merlin knew that he wasn't going to be getting any answers.

When they reached the stables two horses had been saddled and piled down with bags as well. Two stable boys nodded to Merlin and Gaius as they adjusted the straps on the horses one last time. With a final nod of their heads to Gaius, they headed off in different directions, completely ignoring Merlin as they went. It seemed like most people in Camelot did, aside from Gwen, Morgana, and a few of Gaius's patients who liked to pretend he was their son or grandson.

"Where's the other horse? Or are we riding doubles or…." Merlin trailed off at seeing Gaius's confused look.

"Other horse? For what?" Gaius asked with a raised eyebrow. Merlin could suddenly feel a slight embarrassed blush creeping up on his face as he realized his question was not one of the smartest in the world.

"For the other person? The person who all of these clothes belong to?" Merlin asked, gesturing to the pack on his back.

Gaius raised his eyebrow again at his ward's assumptions. He then turned his back to Merlin and focused on making sure the horse had everything. "Or is that again, something you'll explain on the way there?" Merlin asked, almost sarcastically.

"Yes," Gaius said simply as he managed to get into the saddle. He looked over to Merlin, who was still holding the bag's straps with one hand and the horse's reins in his other, before giving him a slightly cryptic smile. With a tiny roll of his eyes and a wave of his hand, he gestured for Merlin to get onto the horse.

After a few fumbling attempts, Merlin managed to pull himself into the saddle and shift the bag onto the horse. He nearly slid out of the saddle, causing the horse to take a few steps forward, obviously annoyed at his rider's lack of experience and skill. He shot a sheepish grin to his mentor, who's only response was to smile slightly at his ward's clumsiness.

"Got it! I'm good," Merlin said and gave another big grin, this one a bit less embarrassed.

Seeing that Merlin wasn't going to topple over any time soon, Gaius spurred his horse forward, with Merlin's trotting along right behind him.

Neither one of them said anything else as their horses trotted along through the gates and toward the forest.

Merlin had never rode a horse before, at least not one as strong and sturdy as the one he was riding now. When he had been a child he and Will would sometimes be allowed a short ride on the plow horses, so long as someone was watching and holding the reins. But those horses had been sickly and scrawny and old, time and the hard work in the fields having rode and worn them down to nothing. It was almost freeing to be able to ride with no one holding on, even if he was a tiny bit fearful of falling to the ground.

They had been riding for close to two hours when Merlin felt the urge to ask questions growing again. He knew that Gaius was avoiding his questions, but that didn't stop him from wanting answers.

It wasn't too long after that that Merlin broke the silence. "So can you tell me where we're going now?" Merlin asked. He still wasn't actually expecting an answer, but Gaius finally turned around in the saddle slightly so he could see Merlin better.

"A lord lives out here in a manor away from the citadel. He's a bit of a recluse and he's in need of some supplies," Gaius said.

Merlin looked around at the packs strapped to both of the horses and the dense forest surrounding them. "Why do you have to do it? I mean, why not send some knights? Surely they'd be able to bring some supplies to some lonely lord?"

Gaius seemed pretty reluctant to answer those questions but did so anyways. "He's rather ill, and he tends to be rather… skittish around new people."

Merlin resisted the urge to stop his horse at that. "He's skittish… So you're bringing me along with you?" Merlin asked.

Gaius sighed and Merlin spurred his horse on until he was riding side by side with Gaius. "I'm not as young as I once was, my boy, and although I'm loath to admit it sometimes; I need help. It's hard to travel this far all by myself every two weeks."

Merlin could only nod his head. It was a rather long journey to be expected to make in one day, especially with all of the packs.

"We're almost there," Gaius said. He gripped his horse's reins tight and pulled them to the side, leading them up a small, barely noticeable path. It was nestled in between two large trees with weeds and leaves covering most of it. It looked like it had been abandoned for years and only recently put back into use.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Merlin asked warily. Something about this place set his magic on edge, like quick little lightning bolts shooting through the air. A glance over to Gaius told him that his uncle obviously didn't feel anything. Or if he did he didn't let on.

"Yes, Merlin," he said.

The manor suddenly came into view after they cleared the trees. After seeing the place Merlin could tell why it might set his magic on edge.

The entire manor was dark and dim. The once beautiful manor was now covered in ivy and moss, with the dark grey stones almost black in some spots, like it had been burned or something. Trees surrounded the entire thing, although some of them were leaning, with vines barely clinging onto them and keeping them up.

"Really sure?" Merlin asked, still on edge.

Gaius resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his nephew. "Yes, yes, I'm sure this is the right place, my boy," he said, sliding from his horse to untie the packs. He walked over to Merlin's horse and grabbed the single pack of clothes before heading towards the manor.

Merlin gulped audibly at the thought of actually entering the manor. It was impressively huge though, and it only got bigger the closer he got to it.

"Whoa, this place is huge," Merlin breathed from the covered porch. Even standing on the porch he could tell that the place only got bigger the deeper you went in. "And only one person lives here? All by themselves?"

Gaius sighed like a teacher who'd been asked one too many questions. Merlin knew that Gaius wasn't really annoyed; in fact he knew that Gaius loved his curiosity, but he did know that Gaius was obviously under some sort of stress from this whole thing. He didn't take the slight snappiness in his tone to heart.

"Yes, he lives here alone. Now, if you would, please take those packs to the kitchen for me," Gaius said before heading down the hallway to put the clothes away in one of the rooms.

Merlin walked back to the horses and unpacked all the bags. They were heavy, loaded down with more food than should be necessary for someone to eat in two weeks, at least to eat alone. He grumbled slightly under his breath as he jerked the final pack off of the horses.

He walked back to the porch and leaned around the edge of the doorway. Merlin had to admit that the place was impressive, mightily impressive if a bit… dark. He couldn't stop the feeling of awe that rose up in him as he looked at the large room on the other side of the doorway. The lightning bolt feeling of magic had faded to something less stinging and became gentler, like a breeze on the plains.

"Gaius?" Merlin called into the dim room. He glanced around the entry way, searching for the old man but saw no sight of him. Merlin felt slightly annoyed at the man's disappearing act. _'How am I supposed to put this stuff in the kitchens if I don't even know where that is?'_ he thought.

He stepped into the room and turned around to shut the door. Even for a door that size it was hard to close, most likely from all the years of mistreatment. He briefly wondered how Gaius had been able to push the door open, as he shoved against the door with all his might, grunting with the effort it took.

With the door finally closed, the room was plunged into darkness. Dust swirled around in the room, creating small dances in the low light that came in from some of the windows. Most of them were covered with ivy or coated so thickly with dust and grime that there was no light coming in at all.

Merlin tried to shift the bags around so they were easier to carry, although it did little good. Now that he was inside the room and his eyes had nearly adjusted he could see a lot more of it.

A creepy sense of being watched rose up inside him. He glanced around the room, trying to locate where it was coming from.

The room itself appeared to be deserted. Dust covered literally every surface, cobwebs fighting for dominance in some spots.

It had obviously been a beautiful manor, with tapestries hanging from the walls and grand rugs covering most of the middle section of the floor, just like Camelot's castle in most rooms.

Unlike Camelot however was the wear and tear on the furnishings. Long marks similar to claws (although what had claws that big or could reach that high, Merlin didn't know) marred the faded tapestries until the pictures they once depicted were unrecognizable. The once thick rugs were just as shredded; looking like some giant cat had used them as a plaything.

"Hello?" Merlin whispered. He could feel something watching him in the shadows even if he couldn't say what that thing was. He couldn't even say whether that thing was good or bad, just that it was there, somewhere and lurking in the shadows.

"Merlin! Where are you?" Gaius shouted from a room somewhere deeper in the manor. He jumped slightly, his heart jumping into his throat from fright.

"Coming, Gaius!" he shouted back, gripping his packs and running across the long room to the hallway, his funny feeling now gone.

He didn't have to go too far down the hallway until he found where Gaius was, which ended up being the kitchen. Gaius motioned with a wrinkled hand for Merlin to unpack the bags he was carrying and put the food away. He did so quickly, noting that the kitchen was better lit and a whole lot cleaner than the entry and hallway.

"Alright, done!" Merlin announced with a smile as he hopped off the stool he had been using to reach a top cabinet. "This Lord must eat a lot of food if that's all for him," Merlin said, hoping Gaius would get the hint and explain a bit more.

"Yes, I suppose he must," Gaius gave him a knowing smile before beginning to head back to the first room. He knew his ward would be right behind him, if a bit slower because of his curiosity.

When Merlin walked back into the first room he felt the strange feeling return. He couldn't help slowing his walk and glancing around the room again. "You never told me who lives here," Merlin said, angling for a name. His eyes roamed over the ceiling, sure that there was something there, but after a moment he glanced away.

"I suppose I didn't," Gaius said. Merlin knew that tone and knew that his mentor didn't want to answer.

"So are you going to?" Merlin asked, picking at his nails in an uninterested manner. He hoped that Gaius would believe it so he might be more inclined to give some answers.

"This manor belongs to Lord Edward. He doesn't get many visitors, and he's a bit of a recluse," Gaius explained. It wasn't much more information, but at least he knew who's home (if you could call it that) he had been traipsing around in.

"Should we let him know what we're leaving? Or that we were even here in the first place?" Merlin asked, hoping that he might be able to get a glimpse of whoever owned this place or who would want to call this place home.

Gaius reached over and gripped his shoulder, pulling him closer and towards the door. "Believe me when I say, he already knows that we're here."

Merlin opened his mouth to question Gaius, like how Lord Edward could possibly already know they were there, and why he wouldn't say anything or even acknowledge they were there if he already knew?

Before he could ask any more questions though, Gaius gently shoved him through the doorway, waving away all of his other questions.

* * *

Well there you guys have it, chapter 3 of Or Stay Like This Forever! I hope you guys are enjoying it so far, and thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, or followed this story! You guys are amazing!

Til' Later!


	4. Chapter 4

Once Arthur was sure that Gaius and the boy, Merlin, were gone he climbed down, sending bits of dust onto him. He quickly walked towards the chambers he had taken up residence in, which was near the heart of the manor.

He bounded up the stairs like a wolf might and into the first room on the right. There were lots of rooms that he could have used, but this one was the most like his own chambers back in Camelot and thus felt more like home.

He quickly spotted the extra clothes that had been brought to him that he desperately needed. He tended to accidentally rip and tear his clothing while he was trying to blow off steam by climbing, running, and basically destroying things all around the manor.

Next to the clothes was a letter from Gaius. He approached it slowly, his long, clawed toenails clicking on the stone flooring. He reached out and used his long claws to quickly open the letter.

'_Dear Arthur,_

_No progress has been made as of yet about how to reverse this curse. Don't worry though, we have not given up searching for one, and we won't until you're back to normal in Camelot with us._

_I bet you're wondering about the boy who came here with me today-'_

Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Why would he be curious about who the boy was?

'_- and I'm going to let you know right from the start that he does not know who you are or what has happened to you. His name is Merlin, and he's my ward back in Camelot. Traveling so far in one day is stressful and difficult for me to do, so Merlin will be helping me._

_You don't have to come out when he's around, although I would appreciate you coming down from those rafters next time so I can check you over._

_In the end, the choice is yours. _

_-Gaius'_

Arthur laid the letter back down on the table as he thought over everything Gaius had written. His heart felt heavy with something similar to dismay that his father had never been mentioned in Gaius's letter, at least not directly.

At the same time though, Arthur felt his heart lighten. So Gaius hadn't betrayed him by bringing someone who would kill or attack him. Not that he actually believed that the scrawny, big eared boy could harm him even if he tried beastly transformation or not. It still felt good to know at least Gaius was still on his side with all of this.

It wasn't long until his heart was sinking again though. Today was the only day he got to talk to someone, even if that someone was just Gaius, whose main conversation topic was asking how Arthur felt, and he had missed it by hiding up in the rafters from a boy whose only dangerous feature was how sharp his cheekbones were.

He hated to admit it, but he was lonely. He missed talking to people and giving orders to useless servants. He missed roughhousing with the knights, hell he even missed council meetings with the old stuffy lords and his father.

He hated to admit it, but he had to. That is, were there was anyone there to admit it to.

With a sigh that sounded more like a growl, he headed back to the kitchen. Before he had been forced to move into the manor by himself he would have laughed at the thought of him fixing any sort of food. He was a prince, with cooks and servants who would practically fall over themselves to serve him food. There was absolutely no need for him to know how to cook as long as he lived in Camelot as a prince.

The problem now was that he no longer lived in Camelot, but a rundown manor, and he was no longer even able to use the title of Prince, even if there had been anyone to order around.

The first day he had moved in, (and calmed down enough to not rip apart the first soul in sight) Gaius began to show him simple things to make. Arthur had resisted at first, surely he wouldn't be there long enough for that, but he eventually came around to it after eating nothing but the rations normally taken on patrols for two weeks.

His cooking skills were still subpar, Gaius was a physician not a cook or a cooking teacher after all, but it was better than nothing. It was sad, but he was almost getting used to his own horrible cooking, even though it had only been three months.

Another thing that was sad was that he almost enjoyed cooking. It gave him something to do other than mope about or wreck parts of the manor, and it felt natural. It sounded odd, but it helped him to feel no as lonely as he was, knowing that people all around Camelot was doing the exact thing he was doing: cooking a nice meal to be enjoyed, even if it was just for himself.

He went about the room, taking out everything he would need to make a roasted chicken, which was thankfully one of the things that Gaius had managed to pack for him. Gaius was usually pretty good at bringing him the things he requested, such as chicken or more clothes.

Cooking was slow going due to his long claws that refused to detract whenever he was angry or stressed. He wasn't even exactly sure what he was so stressed about, which only served to make him even more stressed, thus creating a never ending cycle of un-retractable claws.

He quickly ate the meal, woofing it down in a very un-princely manner. Before the curse he hadn't eaten with his fingers since he had been a young child, especially not after his tutors had practically beaten it into his head that that was _not _how little princes ate. After the curse, however, he didn't care how he looked while he ate. First of all, there was no one around to see him, and secondly, he was _always_ hungry. He had eaten a lot while he had been a normal prince, but now that he was some kind of… beast for lack of a better word, he was practically ravenous all the time.

At least he had thought there was no one around to see him.

"Seems like someone has a big appetite. Now, now is that anyway for a prince to eat?" the witch's voice spoke from across the room.

Arthur dropped his chicken causing to it land with a _thud _onto the plate. His glowing red eyes flashed even brighter at the sight of the witch, and his claws extended even further.

Morgause was casually sprawled in the chair across the long table from him, her legs swinging freely over one armrest. She stretched her arms out above her head, her long, blonde hair falling carelessly down her shoulders, looking almost as golden as her eyes did when she cast magic in the candle lit kitchen.

Arthur growled, standing up and gripping the edges of the table as if he was preparing to throw it across the room to get to the witch.

A slow, lazy smile spread across Morgause's face. "Seems to me like someone has quite a temper. Then again, you had one even before the curse, didn't you?"

Arthur's blood was practically boiling at seeing the witch again, and it was only made worse by the fact that she was teasing him.

"Reverse this. Now!" he growled, the animalistic urge to kill, to hurt, to maim, was back again, this time focused entirely on the witch.

"Now why would I do such a thing?" Morgause asked, completely unfazed by the beast in front of her.

"Because I order you to!" Arthur roared. The small part of his mind that was still capable of rational thinking told him that no good would come from roaring at the witch, but it was so small and quiet that it was covered up by the more animalistic part.

Morgause's smile disappeared, a deep frown and glare settling onto her face instead. She slowly stood up out of her chair, her red dress sliding to the floor and gathering at her feet.

"There you go again, ordering me like I'm yours to command," she said threateningly. "There's a reason I put this curse on you, and until you've learned your lesson this is how you'll have to stay." Her voice was low and even and calm, which somehow seemed even more intimidating than if she had been screaming at him.

"But I have!" Arthur said. He would have considered his voice desperate, but princes don't sound desperate. "I've learned my lesson now!"

Morgause squinted her eyes even more at the prince's words, clearly not pleased to hear them. "You've learned nothing. You're still the same arrogant prince I cursed three months ago; the only difference now is that you're lonely. You've proven as much by trying to order me around."

Arthur struggled to hold back the urge to rip the witch's throat out or toss her out the window. He stared down at the kitchen table, trying to ignore the witch as she walked around the table and towards him, dragging her fingers across the wooden surface.

"I told you before I believe that you can be a great king, and that's why I'm doing this. You need to be taught a lesson," Morgause said.

The simple truth of it was that her words sounded sincere. Surely that was just another trick conjured by the witch. If she honestly believed that he was going to be a great king (which was something he already knew, thank you very much) then why turn him into such a beast?

"How am I expected to become a great king, or learn my lesson, if I'm locked away in this old manor?" Arthur asked, hating how soft and lost his voice sounded. Gone was the confident, roaring animalistic voice from before, replaced with the lost and lonely voice of a boy left all on his own.

Morgause seemed to be sympathetic as she closed the space between them and rested her hand on his upper arm. "That's not something that I can control, nor can I answer," she said softly. Arthur never lifted his eyes from the table.

"I know that it's hard to be so lonely. To be afraid that if you walked out the door you might be killed for something that you couldn't control," she said. Arthur tried to ignore her words, wanting no comfort from the witch who had cursed him.

"Which is why I want to give you this," she said. She reached into a small bag Arthur hadn't noticed strapped to her side and pulled out a mirror from the small bag.

Arthur finally glanced over to Morgause and the mirror in her hands. The last thing Arthur wanted in the manor was mirrors; in fact, most of them had already been destroyed or covered up. But he couldn't help but be drawn to the mirror.

It seemed to be an ordinary mirror, although a slightly expensive one if the ruby red jewels and golden tint was anything to go by. It seemed more like a gift for Morgana than the beastly Arthur.

"A mirror?" he questioned. He wanted to rant to the witch about how her little practical joke of a gift wasn't funny, when she held up a hand for silence.

"This is more than a mirror. This allows you to see anyone in the world you want, so long as you know their name," she said, waving a hand over the mirror's smooth surface. It began to cloud over and the witch opened her mouth to speak again. "Show me Arthur Pendragon."

The grey clouds in the mirror swirled around like a tornado, hints of red mixing into it. The clouds began to clear and Arthur gasped.

He could see himself, but not the way one would normally see themselves in a mirror. It was as if he was floating from above, his back and the witch in the center of the mirror.

He held one hand out and wiggled his fingers and watched as his little mirror-self did the same. He tested it a few more times, each time doing more and more ridiculous things to prove that the mirror was really seeing him.

Morgause gave an almost nonexistent smile at the young Pendragon's antics. He actually looked like the twenty-year-old boy he really was for once, instead of the beast or the obnoxious prince.

"And this shows anyone in the world, just as long as I know their name?" Arthur asked, his hand reaching for the mirror. His claws clinked slightly as he gripped the handle gently, not wanting to damage the magical object.

"That's its job," the witch said. Arthur seemed to be rather interested in the mirror, obviously deep in thought.

A magical object this powerful was obviously dangerous. It could show anyone in the castle at any moment, which could be positively catastrophic in the wrong hands. It was clearly something that should be destroyed.

But he didn't have it in him to destroy it. This mirror could show him anyone that he wanted to see. Even if he couldn't talk to them, he would still be able to see them, which was more than what he had right now.

The clouds swirled just under the surface again, obscuring the image of the prince and the witch, this time reflecting like a normal mirror should. He stared into the mirror and at Morgause's reflection.

"What's the catch?" he heard himself ask, although most of him was still focused on the mirror in his hands.

"There is no catch, Arthur Pendragon," Morgause said as she stepped back and out of the range of the mirror. "Despite what you may believe, I actually want you to succeed."

That seemed doubtful; otherwise she wouldn't have turned him into such a beast in the first place. Arthur opened his mouth and spun around on his heels, prepared to tell the witch exactly that, but she was gone.

* * *

Alright so this ends this chapter! I really wanted to put more into this, but I don't have time to type the rest of it out tonight. I might update before next Thursday. That is, if I don't have to work too many hours this next week!

And sorry for not answering you're questions about the story, my email message replying isn't working for some reason, and I don't want to put them in the story in case they could possible spoil something for someone who doesn't want to know yet.

Til' Later!


	5. Chapter 5

The next few days passed by in a blur to Arthur. He no longer climbed tapestries or tore up rugs for fun. No, now he was obsessed with the mirror.

The witch had been right when she said it should show anyone in the world. The first night he got it he searched for his father, who was in his chambers. He watched his father for several hours and late into the night as he wrote reports at his desk, trying to commit everything about his father to his memory. All too soon though his father went to bed, and Arthur decided to do the same.

The next morning he woke up bright and early and watched his father through the mirror again. Even though he had missed going to those dreadfully boring council meetings, he didn't want to watch them through the mirror.

The next person he watched was Morgana. She was like a sister to him, and he knew for a fact that she had pitched a fit at not being able to see Arthur before he had been sent off.

But no matter how close they had been as children, it was apparent that they were very different people now. Morgana's life was boring to watch for him, although it felt good to be able to see her again after so long. He soon tired of watching Morgana's life play out in the mirror and searched for someone else to watch.

He began to watch Sir Leon, one of his most loyal and bravest knights, as he led training. It seemed that in Arthur's absence Sir Leon had taken over the knight's training, just as he usually did when Arthur was gone on patrols or extended hunting trips, although never for this long.

Whenever Arthur was back to normal and in Camelot, he would have to consider giving the knight a raise. The knight put up with the new knights-in-training with more patience and respect that Arthur ever did. He didn't seem to be at all annoyed when the still green knights made a mistake in stance or that they were still a bit rough around the edges.

Arthur might have been the better warrior, but Leon was the better teacher.

He watched the entirety of the knights training, noting how Sir Leon handled each knight and committing each action to memory. Maybe once this whole thing was over with he could get some tips from the older knight on how to train the younger knights.

Afterwards, the whole knights training was over and he was once again at a loss for whom to watch. He tried to wrack his mind for someone else to view and he eventually decided on Gaius, hoping to see how he was progressing on Arthur's situation.

The old man was in his chambers, boiling something in a pot on the fire, instead of walking around the lower town on his rounds like Arthur had expected him to be. The familiar sounds of Gaius's chambers comforted him just as the knights and sounds of the knights training had.

Arthur had closed his eyes, enjoying the sounds of someone else being around even if they were leagues away.

Suddenly the peaceful sounds of Gaius's chambers were shattered by crashing sounds at the door. At first Arthur feared that someone was breaking into the physician's chambers, someone who would do him harm, but he noticed how relaxed the old man was, as if this kind of thing happened all the time.

Gaius only rolled his eyes at the sounds and placed his hands on the book he had been reading. He then looked over to the door where the sounds were coming from, a relaxed smile coming onto his face.

Not a second later, a mess of pale skin and black hair stumbled in, holding a helmet from one of the suits of armor that decorated the hallways. The boy gave a sheepish smile as Gaius raised an eyebrow at Merlin's entrance.

"I might've run into something," the boy said to the questioning look on Gaius's face. He quickly set the helmet down onto the table and plopped down onto the bench across from Gaius.

"So I heard," Gaius said, obviously amused. He closed his book and turned his full attention to the boy sitting across from him. "So, how was your day? Aside from suits of armor," Gaius asked, waving his hand to the helmet seated a few feet away.

"Oh, it was fine. For the most part that is. I helped Gwen gather some things for the Lady Morgana after finishing up your rounds. By the way, did you know…."

Arthur tuned out whatever the rest of the boy was saying. He remembered that Gaius had written that this boy was his ward in Camelot, yet he hadn't expected this.

When Arthur heard the word ward, he thought of Morgana. Morgana was Uther's ward, yet they didn't have the kind of relationship that the boy- Merlin?- and Gaius had. Gaius and Merlin talked to each other with such ease, there was no tension to their conversation that usually accompanied Uther and Morgana's or Uther and Arthur's conversations, only a teasing and caring tone lingering in the air.

Arthur knew that Gaius didn't have any children, but he had always been sure that the old man would have been a good parent, if the way he put up with Arthur as a child had been any evidence. And it appeared that Arthur had been right, as it was clear that Gaius cared for his ward as he listened to the story of his day.

Merlin spoke way too fast and low for Arthur to completely understand everything, a slight accent coming through on certain words. Arthur knew the accent, as it was from their eastern border shared with Cenred's kingdom, and seldom heard in Camelot anymore. It was light, barely noticeable except on certain words that the young boy used, and it was almost pleasing to listen to.

Arthur shook his head to clear it of thoughts of the boy's accent. It was just a stupid accent after all.

He slowly began to listen to Merlin's story again, following the peasant's almost frantic actions as he mimed out his day with his hands, using his whole arms, sometimes his whole body, to make a point.

"But neither Gwen or I noticed that another servant was coming along, so we managed to spill the entire bucket of water all over the three of us," Merlin said, showing how the water had washed over the three of them with his hands, and also explaining why his hair and clothes were still slightly damp.

Gaius only laughed at his ward's antics, clearly enjoying hearing about his day. "It sounds like there would be a lot more work getting done if you didn't try to help Gwen," Gaius said kindly. Merlin nodded, admitting that that was probably true.

Arthur didn't know how long he watched the two, but it must have been for a good long while, because when he looked up finally he noticed the manor was dark, sunlight no longer coming in, and his stomach was practically eating itself in hunger.

Reluctantly, he put down the mirror to go and find something to eat, watching as the mirror turned stormy before clearing and returning to its normal state.

Tomorrow he'd find something better to do than watch people in that damn magic mirror. Maybe he'd even do something more useful than watch people who didn't even know that he could see them.

Tomorrow he wouldn't even look at the mirror.

XXX

Okay, so Arthur Pendragon was a liar. Though to be fair, Arthur really had planned to do something more productive than follow people in the mirror, but it was just so addictive.

Instead of doing something helpful, like giving the place a good cleaning, (although, if he was being honest, he'd never been very good at cleaning anyways) he continued watching the people of Camelot through the mirror.

There were few people he actually wished to watch, and even fewer who were actually interesting for more than a few moments. It was almost depressing to see how normal everyone was, even though their prince was no longer in Camelot. He knew most of them thought that he was on a quest to become Crown Prince of Camelot, but that didn't stop him from feeling an ache in his chest.

In the end he did the same thing as yesterday, except focusing on one person more.

He couldn't quite explain it, but he couldn't stop watching Merlin of all people. It's not like the boy did anything particularly interesting each day. He woke up, did a few chores for Gaius, did all of Gaius's rounds that didn't involve diagnosing anyone, and ran around helping Gwen with whatever she might need help with, occasionally stopping to talk with Morgana when time permitted it. It was apparent to Arthur that Gwen didn't really need much help, she'd been Morgana's lone servant for quite a while now, but that the two were something of friends.

Arthur felt a stab of jealousy go through him. He was the Prince of Camelot, locked away in a manor all by himself, while those two lowly servants got to joke around with each other while they were supposed to be working.

The two of them must have made quick friends, seeing as how Arthur had only been gone for three months, yet the two of them were already laughing and joking around like old friends normally did, which only made Arthur even more jealous. Why couldn't he make friends that fast or at all really?

Either way he couldn't stop watching him. It was… entertaining to say the least. The boy was funny and easily excitable. Arthur was drawn to the way the boy smiled, so easily as if nothing ever got him down.

It was on the third day of watching him that Arthur decided enough was enough. He couldn't spend all his days watching some peasant through the mirror, especially knowing that he wasn't likely to see him anytime soon. Even if he came back with Gaius, Arthur wouldn't show himself.

But it hurt less to watch Merlin through the mirror. It wasn't like watching his father or Morgana or Leon each day and knowing that they were supposed to be missing him, yet if they did, they hid it well. Merlin, however, didn't even _know_ Arthur, so there was no reason for him to miss him, which somehow made the fact that he wasn't somewhat better.

Although he really didn't want to, he knew that he had to stop watching anyone through the magical mirror. And so it was, with a heavy heart and an aching soul, he hid the magical object away, deep down in the back of one of the wooden wardrobes.

XXXX

Merlin shifted uncomfortably on his small, thin bed in the side chambers of Gaius's chambers. The bed was much better than the floor he used to sleep on back in Ealdor, but he still wasn't used to sleeping on it just yet.

He could feel sunlight glowing on his face, turning the back's of his eyelids red. Slowly, he opened his eyes to his small chambers, lit up with sunlight that was shining in through the window he'd forgotten to close the night before.

That couldn't be right through. He knew that Gaius had wanted him to be prepared to wake up early, ashe needed to go visit Lord Edward, just as he did every two weeks. He shouldn't still be asleep, yet here he was, still lying in bed.

Merlin quickly jumped out of bed and began to pull on clothes, his blue shirt getting caught on his ears in his haste to get down stairs.

"Gaius?" Merlin called down the stairs, still struggling to get into his shirt. He strained his ears to listen for a reply, but none came. He tried to turn towards where ever his mentor was, but no matter how hard he tried to, he couldn't figure out where he was.

"Gaius?" he asked again, finally managing to pull his shirt down over his head. He glanced around the room and spotted his mentor still in his bed.

Merlin walked over to his uncle's bedside, noting how tired he looked. He knew that Gaius hadn't been feeling well the night before, but he had assumed a good night's rest would cure him of whatever it was that was wrong with him. Apparently he had been wrong.

Merlin placed his hand on his forehead and flinched when he felt heat coming from it. It wasn't very strong, but that didn't stop Merlin from worrying.

Gaius stirred as his ward's cool hand pulled away from his forehead. He opened his eyes and looked up at Merlin, taking in his ruffled hair and still half raised shirt.

"What time is it?" Gaius asked, attempting to sit up in his bed. Merlin quickly pushed him back down, waving his hands in a staying motion. "Don't worry about that right now," Merlin said and walked over to the shelves to find something for the fever.

While his back was turned Gaius had sat up in bed, looking around for some kind of sign as to what time it was. He jumped when he noticed how much sun was coming in through the windows, quickly becoming aware of how late it was.

"We have to go," Gaius said. He tried to stand up, but his legs were too shaky to hold himself. He was quickly back on his bed and staring at Merlin's back.

At hearing Gaius move, Merlin hurried to grab everything he needed before running back to Gaius's side. He shot the old man an annoyed look, clearly letting him know that he had tried to get up against Merlin's orders.

Merlin handed Gaius a vile of something that he knew was supposed to help with fevers and dipped a cloth in a bucket of water. Gently, he placed the cloth on Gaius's forehead, smoothing it out carefully.

"I said don't worry about that right now," Merlin said. After making sure that Gaius wasn't going to get up the second he moved away, Merlin walked over to the table, picking up a jug of water and a hunk of bread.

"Lord Edward is expecting us," Gaius said, still not letting go of the idea.

"And he will still be expecting us in several days, when you're better," Merlin said, not caring one bit about some secretive Lord while his uncle was sick.

Still, Gaius seemed adamant about going. He attempted to sit up again, saying that he had to take the supplies to Lord Edward. Merlin could feel his annoyance rising at the unknown Lord. Surely he would understand that Gaius was sick and unable to deliver his supplies for a few days, or maybe they could even get someone else to take them to him.

Merlin pointed these things out, but Gaius shot them down, saying that he had to be the one to deliver them. He rolled his eyes at his mentor's stubbornness, clearly displaying the same stubbornness Gaius often saw in Merlin himself.

"What if I did it?"Merlin asked, sensing that this conversation was going nowhere.

Gaius gave him an indecisive look. He didn't want to send his ward out there all on his own, especially not knowing how "Lord Edward" would react to him being there alone, but he didn't have a lot of options.

"Come on, Gaius, I know where it's at and where to put things once I get there. It's either me or no one at all," Merlin said, his tone leaving no room for argument. Still Gaius looked hesitant.

"You'll have to be very careful in the woods, Merlin. There are dangerous people out there," Gaius said.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Gaius, I have magic," he said, brazenly loud. "I think that I can take care of myself against some bandits. It's not like it would be the first time I've ever traveled in the woods by myself."

Gaius hoped that the only problems his nephew would run into would be bandits, but he didn't say anything.

He watched as Merlin gathered the packs Gaius had set aside last night, hoping that he wouldn't run into any trouble with "Lord Edward".

Merlin smiled and walked back over to Gaius, shifting the bags around. "I'll have Gwen come in and check on you later, alright?" Merlin said, and with another smile he was gone.

* * *

Sorry, still no interaction yet. I swear that it's coming up (next chapter more than likely) and I'm sorry about it taking so long to get there. I feel like this chapter would have went on forever if I added the next part onto it, so I figured that y'all can wait another week for them to really meet ;)

Til' later!


	6. Chapter 6

By the time Merlin got to the stables the stable boys had already packed up both of the horses with food, just as they had last time. They sent him a glare, obviously not happy about being kept waiting so long.

It wasn't his fault really though. He had woke up late, Gaius had been sick, and Gwen had been particularly hard to track down today. He had finally found her setting up chambers for one of the visiting royals, along with several other servants. After a brief description of what was going on, Gwen was more than happy to look in on Gaius for him for the few hours while he was gone.

"We'll all have dinner when you get back later tonight, alright?" she said with a shy smile as she fluffed the pillows and straightened the bed sheets.

He had quickly nodded his head, enjoying the thought of eating a nice, quiet dinner with Gaius and Gwen. He tried to think of all of the ingredients needed to make his mother's soup that always made him feel better, as soup would be a good thing for Gaius to eat while he hopped into the saddle and headed for the forest.

He rode on, even as the day grew hot and slightly muggy. If he stopped for a break to cool off like he wanted to, then it would take even longer to get back to Gaius, which wasn't something that he wanted to do.

Near the two hours mark Merlin did have to stop. It was too hot for him to continue on with both his jacket and neckerchief on, and his horse could obviously use a break and a drink from the stream near the path. Quickly, he pulled the reins, leading the horse off of the path and into the trees.

He tied the horse's reins to a branch that was close enough to the water for her to get a drink, but also far enough away for her to eat the grass on the bank.

Merlin shrugged his jacket off and tied it to the horse's pack. The horse shook her head, as if protesting the article of clothing being added to the saddle. Merlin patted the horse's neck, receiving a small, happy snort from the horse's nose.

His read neckerchief was practically soaked through with sweat, something that rather disgusted Merlin. If the thing was going to be soaked, it might as well be soaked in the cool water from the stream.

The stream itself was relatively clear, with slow, gentle moving water that sparkled in the sun. If it hadn't been so hot, and Merlin hadn't needed to deliver things and take care of Gaius, he might have stayed there to relax a while. Sadly, he was needed elsewhere and relaxing would have to wait.

He had just removed his neckerchief from the water and was wiping down his face when he heard it. There was a 'snap' in the distance, too large to have been from a bird or any other small animal.

Tensing, Merlin turned around, expecting to see whatever it was stalking him in the forest. There was nothing in sight though, aside from his horse, who flicked her tail when he looked at her.

He relaxed slightly, feeling kind of stupid for being so jumpy. Just as he began to fully relax, and began to reach for the edge of the water to dampen the cloth again, he felt someone grab him from behind.

A hand grabbed a hold of his left wrist, while the other clamped down on his mouth to keep him silent. He kicked his legs out helplessly as a pair of strong arms began to pull him away from the river.

"Stop struggling, boy!" a harsh man's voice said from behind. Merlin could feel his feet dragging along the ground, although he couldn't see them, as his face was held skyward by the hand across his mouth. He forced his right hand up against the man's face, scratching at any part of him he could reach.

He could feel liquid roll in between his fingers, and the pained yell from above him told him that it had been blood. The man quickly shoved Merlin away, his hands going to his damaged face.

Merlin turned around to face his attacker, feeling a sick sense of pleasure at seeing that he had managed to draw blood. Blood dripped lightly from the long scratch marks on his cheek Merlin had managed to land, and onto the dark clothes the man wore. Despite the heat the man still wore a light smattering of fur and dark clothes that absorbed the heat of the day. Normally Merlin would feel sorry for him for having to wear so much cold weather clothes on such a warm day, buy seeing as how he had attacked him first, Merlin no longer cared.

"You little welp!" the man said, taking out a knife from his belt. He charged forward again, jabbing with his knife towards Merlin's stomach. Merlin managed to dodge out of the way at the last possible second, feeling the knife cut a slight hole in his tunic.

His magic roared beneath the surface, begging to be let out and attack the man in front of him. He clamped down on it though, not trusting it to not give him away.

He raced over to his horse, hoping to untie it a head for Lord Edward's manor where surely there would be _someone _to help him. Lord Edward must have a servant or a guard or anything that would be willing to help him.

Just as his hands clasped around the horses reins invisible hands gripped him and yanked him backwards. His horse let out a loud whinny, obviously unhappy at her reins being tugged on and her rider being pulled away. Merlin knew the pull of magic, although he had never felt it be used in such a way. His back smacked into the ground, with his head hitting with a loud _thud._

Black dots swirled across his vision, threatening to consume his mind and take him away.

"What's wrong?" a different voice called. "Can't you even take care of a simple boy?"

Merlin knew he should do something, like try and escape, yet his body wouldn't listen to him. His arms and legs felt like heavy weights, weighing him down to the ground and unable to move.

"He scratched me!" the first man shouted, walking over to Merlin and giving him a kick to the stomach. Merlin flinched wanting to curl up against the pain, but unable to due to the magical heaviness that weighed down his limbs.

"That's what you get for not using magic in the first place," the second man said smugly. Merlin's heart sank at the thought of having to deal with two magic users at once. It would've been hard enough for him to have dealt with one but two seemed impossible.

Whether it was from a weak spell or Merlin's own magic fighting against it, Merlin didn't know, but he could slowly begin to move his fingers a bit. The two men seemed wrapped up in their own discussion, not even noticing that their captive was beginning to move about.

"I was sure that I could take him. He's not much bigger than a twig after all!" the first man said, wincing as he felt his new scratches pull when he talked.

The second man went to reply, but he noticed that the boy on the ground was now gone. "Where'd he go?!" he shouted, swiveling around to find Merlin.

Merlin had only made it to the tree line when he felt the magic hook jerk him backwards. The second man glared down at Merlin, his joking nature now replaced with anger at the hostage trying to escape.

"You should have just stayed down, kid," the second man said, flashing a wicked grin his way. "We would've just let you go once we'd taken your supplies, but now…" the man said almost casually before sending a swift kick to Merlin's stomach.

Pain ran through him, and he was slightly relieved when he was able to curl up against the pain. He quickly curled up, covering his head as he did so.

One of the men walked over to Merlin and lifted him up by his arm and his hair. He shoved his arm up high behind his back, causing Merlin to wince when it pulled muscles that shouldn't be pulled in that way.

Another hand snaked through his hair and forced his head back, until all he could see was the sky again. He could feel his control on his magic weakening until it was just a thin line. One of the men punched him in the stomach, yet again, and Merlin felt his control on magic finally slip.

There was no giant explosion of magic or wave of power that washed through the clearing, although it felt that way due to the ringing in his ears from the knock to his head, but he knew the minute his magic came to his aid. A strength that he didn't know he had forced him to use his legs to kick out at the man in front of him, causing the man to gasp in pain and fall to the ground. Merlin knew that he must have kicked him right where no man ever wanted to be kicked.

Whoever still held his arm forced it up higher, obviously not willing to let him go. Merlin struggled slightly against the pain, trying to call on his magic again to give him the strength to fight off the one still holding his arm.

Suddenly a crack filled the air, freezing both Merlin and the man behind him. A scream ripped from Merlin's throat as the pain from his shoulder began to make itself known. It was more painful than anything he had ever felt before. It felt like fire and lightening was both running through his shoulder, making him want to throw up.

The man dropped Merlin as if he had been burned, although with Merlin's magic running wild in him, it might have. His face landed roughly on the ground, another bout of pain rushing through him as his shoulder hit the ground as well.

The man, obviously not wanting to touch Merlin again with his bare skin, lest he be burned again took to kicking him, stomping on any part of him possible. Merlin could feel himself slowly giving into the blackness that had been threatening to spread across his vision the entire time.

A low roar filtered into Merlin's mind, making him fearful that he was going to go over the edge. In the next instant the painful boot was gone, and a louder, closer, growling sound filled his mind. That's when it occurred to him that the sound might not have been in his head at all.

He tried to focus his mind on what was going on around him, the sound of growling, something heavy hitting the ground, and the sounds of a fight breaking out around him.

Merlin must have blacked out for a moment, because the next thing he knew was one of the magic users falling down next to him in a bloody mess. He jerked his body, his mind still in panic mode from being attacked, and instantly regretted it the second his body protested.

He gasped quietly, trying to find out what had happened. His eyes rolled, almost unseeingly, and his mind tried to send him back to the blissful blackness of before.

Something gently tapped his face, and unless he was imagining it, called his name. His blue eyes rolled around until they came to rest on a humanoid shape above him. His vision was still too unfocused to take in anything other than a glimpse of the glowing red eyes above him.

"Help…" Merlin whispered, hoping that the person above him could understand him and help him, although since it was so low he doubted that the person could even hear him.

The blackness that had been threatening him at the edge of his vision finally over took him, leaving him passed out on the forest floor.

* * *

Okay so not exactly a meeting like most of you were probably expecting but oh well. I turn 18 in 30 minutes and I want to go to bed. I would listen to music, but I've lost the headphone's I bought three hours ago, so yeah. I just really want this bad to end and my birthday begin. I'll update some time before next week to make up for this crummy post.

Til' Later.


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur paced angrily in the entry way, still listening for any sign of Gaius or Merlin coming along the path way.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hear any sign of either one of them.

He knew that he was being slightly unreasonable, traveling through the forest could cause many delays after all, yet he still felt irrationally irritated. Which seemed to be happening more and more often after the curse had been cast on him.

He couldn't explain the feeling that was worming its way inside his chest. It almost felt like worry, which didn't make any sense at all. Why he would be worried about the two people who were supposed to be making their way towards his manor, he wasn't quite sure.

Surely Merlin had done something to slow them down, and that was why they were later than they normally were. Arthur had seen for himself through the mirror that the boy tended to be a bit on the clumsy side. He had probably just tripped over something or forgotten something, or maybe even managed to get both Gaius and himself lost.

Thinking this wayreturned Arthur's mind to a subject he'd been avoiding: the mirror. Briefly he considered going up to his room and retrieving the mirror from its hiding place, but decided against it. Aside from the truly magical aspects, there must have been an enchantment placed on it. That must have been why he was unable to look away from it once he started.

So instead of using the obviously enchanted mirror, he took to listening at the door for familiar hoof beats or a familiar voice to come to him. When neither of those things did he felt like punching, clawing, or tearing something apart all over again.

He paced there, growing more and more impatient as the day went on. Gaius was definitely going to get an earful whenever he finally decided to show up.

That's when he finally heard it: a horse, whinnying somewhere in the distance. It wasn't the sound a horse normally made, happy to finally be free of its stable and out for a walk. No, this was the sound of an animal panicking, certainly stressed about something.

Arthur tried to ignore it. It couldn't have been from Gaius's or Merlin's horses, because that would mean there _had been _or currently _was_ a problem. He strained his ears to hear more, but all he could hear was more of the panicked horse's cries.

Without even thinking about it, Arthur began edging towards the door. His mind seemed to finally realize what was going on, just as his hand rested on the knob of the door.

Arthur froze, fear and trepidation flooding his mind and his limbs. He hadn't left the manor since he had first arrived in it (expect to take care of his horse in the stables out back), and the thought of leaving now sent a trill of fear in him.

He hadn't been specifically told not the leave the manor although it had been heavily implied by both Gaius and his father. He suspected the only reason why he hadn't been ordered not to was because Uther knew Arthur would do everything in his power to go against him, in pay back for being sent away.

Sometimes Arthur was more like Morgana than either one of them cared to admit.

_Just one peek. Just down to the tree line,_ Arthur thought. There was nothing wrong with taking a stroll through the front lawn to the trees, though right? Not as long as he was sure that he wasn't seen by anyone, and he made it back before Gaius came, assuming that it wasn't Gaius or Merlin in trouble of course.

His hand trembled as he pulled the door open. The sun seemed to burn brighter than it ever had, blinding Arthur's now more sensitive eyes. Birds chirped almost obscenely loud in Arthur's ears, and he struggled and fought against the desire to run back into his nice, dark manor.

He sprinted down the steps and off the porch of the manor. With the cover of the manor gone, he was left depending on the cover of the scattered trees across the wide, over grown lawn. The denser tree line seemed to be incredibly and impossibly far away, and each step felt like a life time.

Despite the fact that the lawn was so vast, Arthur managed to cross it in a heartbeat. It seemed that there were some good things to this curse.

The shadows of the dense trees helped to relax him a bit, the feeling that he was being watched and too exposed was also gone. It seemed total seclusion had made him a bit paranoid.

Arthur picked his away along through the trees, his footsteps barely making a noise as he went. He hoped that he wouldn't have to go very far out, a nervous feeling sticking in the pit of his stomach.

He had barely made it to the bend in the road, still sticking to the thick cluster of trees, when he heard grunting coming from the banks across the trail. Part of his mind was telling him to go back to the manor before someone saw him, but another, louder, part of his mind told him to investigate.

Before he could decide which to do, the choice was made for him. His strengthened hearing could hear a loud sound, similar to popping or cracking, coming from across the clearing, followed by a rather pain filled scream.

Arthur froze for a moment, recognizing the voice that had made the scream. Even if he had only heard the voice in person once, there was no mistaking it.

Without thinking about it, Arthur charged across the trail and towards the banks. A growl worked its way out of his throat as he skidded to a stop, still obscured by the trees.

There were two men in the clearing with Merlin. One of them was crouched on the ground, holding his 'family jewels' as the case would be, while another stood over Merlin's lanky form, kicking and stomping on the poor boy.

Arthur's mind clouded over and he saw red. Again, Arthur's body reacted without him even having to think anything, and he went from standing by the trees to tackling the man looming over Merlin.

Both of them toppled over onto the ground, and Arthur quickly jumped back up, crouching into a position a mother bear might right before attacking someone. His feet were spread apart, while his toes dug deep into the earth. He flexed his hand, causing his claws to grow even longer.

The man's eyes widened when he noticed the angry, growling beast in front of him. One of his hands fumbled for the knife he had dropped earlier, while his other was help up in front of him, defensively, as if that would be enough to stop Arthur.

The man's eyes flashed gold and the knife flew into his outstretched hand. The man seemed to know that it would be hopeless to actually use the knife against Arthur, but he seemed to think he would be able to take the beast on with magic.

That of course was a mistake.

Arthur could feel his rage rise again, even higher this time, at the blatant use of magic. How dare these filthy, disgusting, poor excuses for people, sorcerers think that they could use magic against the Prince of Camelot.

It didn't matter that they had no clue that the beast in front of them was the prince of a kingdom that banned the use of magic. It didn't even seem to matter that the other man lying on the floor was beginning to wake up, or that he appeared to be preparing his own knife and magic. No, Arthur only had eyes for the man who he had run across beating the hell out of a helpless peasant.

Arthur jumped forward, slashing his long, deadly, claws at the man in front of him. The man just barely managed to dodge; somehow using magic if the tell-tale flash of gold was anything to go by. This only served to make Arthur even more infuriated.

The man from the floor swiped an uneasy and unsure blow towards Arthur, only to be swiped back at with Arthur's claws. His claws found true, blood gushing from the man's side and arm, even through all the layers he wore.

The man let out a yelp of pain as he fell to the ground, his knife bouncing a little ways away. Arthur's inner, animalistic rage almost demanded that he finish the man off, but the scurrying of the first man drew his attention away from him.

The man froze when he saw Arthur glaring at him, his plan to attack the beast while his back was turned now completely forgotten. Arthur sprung on him, his claws digging into the man's shoulder, completely uncaring about the man's pained yells that now echoed in the clearing. Arthur threw the man across the clearing, his rage only backing off a bit when he noticed that the man had landed a bit too close to Merlin's unconscious form. The other man ran towards his partner-in-crime that now law unconscious next to Merlin.

The prince's mind clouded over again at seeing both of the men so close to the hurt boy on the ground. He felt like he had only blinked, closed his eyes for a second, yet when he opened his eyes he knew that wasn't the case.

When he came back to his senses, only a few seconds later, both men were bloody messes on the forest floor. Crimson blood stained the entire front of his once white tunic, soaking through to his skin and clinging to it.

He glanced down at his hands and grimaced when he noticed just how much blood was covering them. It wasn't the blood that bothered him really, he was a knight of Camelot after all, so this was hardly the first time he'd had blood on his hands, literally or figuratively.

But this was the first time it had happened quite this way. He had never blacked out quite that bad before in a fight to honestly not remember what he'd done to someone, especially if what he'd done was tear them apart.

Oh well, what was done was done. He had bigger things to worry about than torn up bandits, like the unconscious boy lying at his feet. As quietly as he possibly could, he marched over to the boy and collapsed to the ground next to him.

"Merlin? Merlin can you hear me?" Arthur asked him, slapping his face lightly, calling his name a few more times to gather his attention.

The poor boy's eyes rolled around, never once truly finding Arthur's face. His eyes were unfocused and glazed over. Arthur worried about the knock to the head that he must have taken, along with his obviously dislocated shoulder.

"Merlin?" he asked again.

"Help…." Merlin whispered lowly. It was so low that Arthur doubted he would have heard it without his now magical hearing.

Arthur opened his mouth to say something- well not reassuring, because he was a prince, and princes don't reassure peasant boys- but something to calm the boy, but he passed out yet again. Arthur watched as the boy's blue eyes rolled up, showing off the whites of his eyes before falling shut.

It was probably for the best that he wasn't aware of the world at the moment, as the world was probably a very painful place to be. Or at least Arthur assumed so, if the badly dislocated shoulder, bloody nose, and newly forming bruises on every visible part of him were anything to go by.

Arthur reached out a clawed hand to scrape away some of the blood that was still trickling from Merlin's nose, only to remember his own bloody hands. He forced himself to stop his hand and instead wiped his hands on his breeches.

Merlin's horse snorted from where it was still tied to the branch, obviously upset about being forgotten. He glanced back to where it was and noticed that the two bandits were nowhere in sight.

"Sorcerers," Arthur growled under his breath and headed towards the horse.

The horse seemed to notice the approaching beastly prince, and was apparently not very happy about it. The horse flared its nose and stamped its feet in irritation, trying to escape by pulling on its reins and backing away.

Arthur knew it would do little good to try and clam the horse, but he still had to try. He would have to get both the supplies and Merlin back to the manor somehow, and the only way he could do that would be calm the horse down.

He held his hands out in a peaceful manor, hoping that the horse would understand that he meant no harm to the creature. As long as she calmed down of course, otherwise he might end up doing it on accident. Thankfully, after a few minutes of 'shh'-ing the horse and keeping his hands in sight while moving slowly forward, he managed to get within reaching distance.

After a few minutes of calming words, he managed to untie the horse to bring her closer to where Merlin lay. Now that the horse seemed aware that Arthur wasn't going to hurt her, she seemed content to stand next to Arthur while the prince inspected the boy lying on the ground.

He knew he would have to put Merlin's arm back in place before he could even begin to move the boy. Over the years he'd seen many dislocated shoulders on his knights, and he'd been trained by Gaius and the older knights how to put them back In place should he ever need to.

That unfortunately wasn't making it much easier to put Merlin's back in place. Those types of injuries had been on trained knights, knights who were trained to handle pain and were supposed to be injured, not young peasant boys.

Arthur sighed as he bent down to help the boy. He moved the his limbs, aside from the dislocated one, until they were in a more comfortable position. He quickly set to rotating Merlin's right arm, gently, so as not to disturb the boy's deep sleep. He knew that his was painful, and the last thing he wanted or needed was for the boy to wake up before he reset the limb.

It only took two tries before Arthur felt the joint slide back into place. He relaxed, knowing that at least if Merlin woke up now he'd be in slightly less pain.

The horse behind him pawed at the ground, trying to gain the prince's attention. Despite the fact that Arthur didn't want to move the boy yet, he knew he needed to get him back to the manor to get a better look at his injuries. He also wanted to get out of the area before anymore bandits/sorcerers came.

He slid his arms under Merlin's back and legs and lifted him to place him on the horse. His head rolled back, hanging off of Arthur's arm, flopping uselessly until Arthur hoisted him up a bit better. His eyes seemed to flutter for a moment, as if he was waking up, but then the fluttering stopped, leaving Arthur wondering if he'd imagined it.

In barely any time at all, Arthur had laid Merlin across the horse, tying him in so he wouldn't fall off once the horse started walking. It was a struggle to make sure that the ropes would hold him, but not cause the boy anymore discomfort than he was already in.

_He is going to owe me big time, _Arthur thought as he grabbed the horse's reins and made his way back to the manor.

* * *

So here's a chapter, two days early to make up for my crummy last week. And yes, I still plan to update Thursday night as well, which means two chapters in one week, whoot whoot!

Thank you all for the lovely birthday wishes! You made my day so much better with all of your reviews and kind words!

Til' Later!


	8. Chapter 8

If Arthur had thought getting Merlin back to the manor was difficult, deciding what to do with him once he got back was torture. The manor only had one useable, clean bed that had been brought to the manor from Camelot when Arthur was forced to move in, and despite the fact that it had many chairs and couches, none of them were clean enough or quite comfortable enough to lay an injured man on. That only left one spot then: Arthur's bed.

Arthur led Merlin's horse to the stables in the back of the manor, where Arthur's horse also resided, and swiftly seized the boy from the horse's back, along with several of the packs, deciding to take care of the rest later.

It was easy to carry Merlin and the bags up to Arthur's room, his supernatural strength from the curse working wonders. Something told Arthur that he'd be able to easily lift the young man even without his new strength. He was much too thin to be completely healthy.

He walked into the room and over to the bed, placing Merlin on top of it. There was no sign what so ever that Merlin was even aware he'd traded the forest floor for a horse and then traded again for the prince's bed. His dark hair stuck out in different directions, some of it dried together from the blood from his head wound and sweat.

Arthur quickly went about gathering some things he would need, like extra cloth for a sling and water and rags to clean up some of the blood from his head. And the blood that Arthur had gotten on him when he had picked him up.

The water was quickly turned pink and the rags stained as he cleaned himself and Merlin. A lot of blood had seeped from Merlin's head; so much that Arthur found himself worrying if the boy would wake.

Arthur quickly shook himself. Why on earth would he be worried about the peasant boy? He hadn't ever even met the boy, at least not officially, even if he had watched him through the mirror- so there was no reason he should even care what happened to the boy. Besides, Gaius had always said that head wounds tended to bleed a lot more than other wounds, so surely this was just a normal side-effect.

Still, it was slightly… disturbing that he hadn't woken up by now. He hadn't even so much as moved since Arthur had placed him on the bed, not even when Arthur wrestled him up into an upright position to discard the boy's stained shirt so he could better tend to his injuries there.

A few dark, boot shaped bruises marked the boy's once pale white skin, along with other shapeless bruises. Arthur pressed down on the boy's ribs, trying to determine if there were any broken ribs to be… uneasy about. A few hard presses revealed that nothing was broken, although they were probably cracked or badly bruised.

Overall, it was nothing that wouldn't heal without a lot of bed rest and the proper attention. Unfortunately, Arthur wasn't trained for that type of attention, nor did he have any tonics for pain relief, which Merlin would surely need when he woke up.

He cursed under his breath while he pulled the covers up to Merlin's waist, leaving his now badly bound chest exposed to the air. He hoped that the air, now being warmed by the fire he had lit in the fireplace for light, might somehow be good for his wounds, although he wasn't quite sure that would actually help.

After an hour of shifting, pacing, and cursing by Merlin's bedside he decided that it was doing nothing but making him more anxious. His claws would expand on their own, only for Arthur to notice when they began to dig into his skin, and his breathing would quicken until it became short growls.

Seeing as how he needed to get out of the room before he became even more beastly and frightened the boy should he awaken, he decided to go and tend to the horses. He was halfway through feeding and brushing down the horses when his thought finally caught up with him.

He was a beast. His appearance had scared the bandits in the woods; he could only imagine what it would do to Merlin. His breath quickened and he tightened his hold on the brush until the wood began to crack. He didn't want to frighten Merlin, in fact that was the last thing he wanted to do, and the last thing the raven-haired boy deserved.

He'd have to hide his appearance then. But the question was, how? He quickly ruled out wearing one of his cloaks that had been packed in his traveling gear, fearing that it might remind him too much of the bandits that had attacked him. He tried to think of something else when his mind wandered to the clothes he had left Camelot in.

They'd be perfect for the job, wouldn't they? They displayed the clothes of a knight, something that a Lord could possibly own, and knights meant you were guarded and protected. Surely Merlin knowing a knight was there would help to calm his possible panic at waking in a strange, unfamiliar place with a stranger.

After finishing with the horses, Arthur walked back inside and went to the room, quietly easing the door open a bit to peek in. His eyes landed on Merlin, still asleep in Arthur's bed, before bounding into the room on all fours, silent as a giant cat.

He pulled up quick to a stop in front of the wardrobe across from the bed where he kept his armor. It was also where he kept the magic mirror. It seemed that this wardrobe was just filled with things he couldn't have or use anymore.

Arthur quickly pulled on the chainmail, only slowing when his claws got caught in the mail. Those stupid claws made everything more difficult, but he still tried to hurry.

His chainmail bumped and clanged into things, like the ground, the table a few feet away, and other pieces of armor that littered the floor around him. He winced when a particularly loud crash of metal thundered through the chambers. He whipped his head to the bed where Merlin lay, but the boy made no sign that he had even heard the sound.

All the noise was motivation for Arthur to dress faster. It was harder to get dressed than it usually was, which he blamed on the claws and his lack of a manservant to help him into his armor.

A sudden, low groan from the bed made Arthur freeze in place. His hands were clenching a pair of thick riding gloves, while hovering over the helmet on the floor. Another groan sounded from the bed, along with the sound of shuffling sheets.

Merlin must have sat up in the bed and spotted Arthur on the floor, although Arthur wouldn't have known seeing as how he still refused to move.

"Um, hello?" Merlin weakly asked, his voice raspy from the screaming he had done earlier in the day. The sound of Merlin's voice snapped Arthur from his frozen state. He quickly slammed the helmet down on top of his ears and his bare scalp.

Arthur quickly spin around, his clawed hands going to his face, making sure that it was truly and completely covered. He jumped at the realization that he had yet to pull the gloves on, leaving his clawed hands exposed to Merlin's eyes.

He pulled the gloves on, hearing the leather rip and tear slightly. He just hoped that Merlin hadn't noticed his claws or could see his red eyes in the dimness of the room.

Merlin shifted on the bed, an expression of uncomfortable pain covering his face.

"Hello?" Merlin said again.

_Oh, right,_ Arthur thought, _he'd said hello. I should say something back._

"Um," Arthur said although it sounded more like a growl than the beginning of a sentence. He internally cursed himself when he saw Merlin flinch at Arthur's harsh growl. He had been so focused on hiding his appearance from Merlin that he had forgotten all about the jagged tone and pitch his voice tended to take on.

Arthur tried to clear his throat, hoping that it would help his voice out. He wondered vaguely if it was as awkward to Merlin as it sounded to Arthur.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked, not knowing what else to say. One look at Merlin could tell anyone that the boy wasn't okay; in fact he seemed to be in a rather large amount of pain, although he was really trying to hide it.

Merlin seemed to consider answering Arthur's question, although he appeared to be confused as to whether or not it had been a real question at all.

"What happened?" Merlin asked, pain coloring his words as he squinted at Arthur. "And where am I?"

Arthur shifted from foot to foot, not knowing what to say. What if Merlin thought that Arthur was one of the bandits who had attacked him, even though he was dressed as a knight?

It only took a few moments for Arthur to answer, although it felt longer to both Arthur and Merlin. "You were attacked by bandits a little ways from my manor, which is where you are now," Arthur said.

Understanding settled over Merlin's expression, quickly followed by a horrified one that would have been funny had the boy not almost knocked himself off of the bed trying to stand up.

"Your manor? That makes you Lord Edward, right?" Merlin asked. His eyes roamed over Arthur's body, as if he could tell who was in front of him just by looking him over.

Arthur almost jumped at the mention of the name; he had nearly forgotten the fabricated person Gaius had invented at the shock of seeing Merlin awake. He quickly reworked his face into one of less surprise before remembering Merlin couldn't even see his face.

"Yes, my name is Lord Edward," Arthur said. The name seemed strange connected to him like that, although he tried to shake the feeling off. Merlin seemed to be panicking slightly, his whole body stiff and tense and looking one move away from snapping. Arthur wasn't sure whether it was from pain or maybe even fear, but he decided that he didn't like it.

"You'll be safe here, until you've healed at least," Arthur said, hoping that his voice wasn't really as petulant as it sounded to his own ears. He really was trying to reassure the raven-haired boy, even though his tone might not have sounded like it, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

"Safe here? Like stay here and heal?" Merlin asked, shooting up even straighter in the bed and making to get out of it.

Arthur could tell the boy was in pain and that he was going down before Merlin himself even knew it. The second Merlin's feet hit the floor he collapsed, sliding towards the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

Despite Arthur's want and need to stay away from Merlin for fear he might catch a glimpse of the beast beneath the armor, he felt himself moving forward to catch the boy. His chainmail covered arms wrapped around Merlin to keep him from hitting the floor. Regardless of Arthur's attempt at not aggravating Merlin's wounds further, the pained yelp told him that he'd failed.

"You idiot!" Arthur all but yelled as he moved Merlin back on to the bed. Merlin stayed tense in Arthur's arms as Arthur pushed him back on to the bed. "Just what do you think you're doing?!" Arthur demanded. He couldn't even feel regret for the growl that had seeped back into his tone as the anger he felt was too strong at the moment.

Merlin flopped backwards; slightly breathless from the physical exertion of standing up and the pain it created. He closed his eyes, trying to take deep, calming breathes, although they caused a slight burning sensation in his chest. He let out a weak cough, which brought Arthur's attention back to him completely.

Arthur felt some of his anger dissipate at Merlin's weak cough. His mind flitted back to the potentially fractured or badly bruised ribs that the boy might have acquired from the beating and he was forced to fight back his hatred for the bandits who had used magic back in the forest.

"How long was I asleep?" Merlin asked, his voice wavering a bit in a way Arthur hadn't heard from him, at least not in all the time he spent watching him through the mirror.

Arthur paused, debating whether or not he should tell Merlin. It hadn't been more than a few hours since he had fallen asleep, but even that would probably stress him out, which was the last thing that Arthur wanted or Merlin needed. But still, he deserved to know.

"Only for a few hours. The sun only set about an hour ago now," Arthur said. He had hoped that his tone would be soothing enough to quell any of Merlin's rising panic, but apparently he had hoped for nothing.

"Sunset!" Merlin exclaimed breathlessly. He wiggled around on the bed as if to get up, but one motion from Arthur had him lying still again. "I was supposed to be back hours ago!"

Arthur jumped slightly at the boy's loud voice in his overly sensitive ears. He resisted the urge to cover his ears, despite the helmet covering them, and sighed. Why couldn't the boy just accept his hospitality? It's not every day a prince let a peasant heal in his bed after all.

Okay, so maybe that sounded a bit wrong.

"Oh no, Gaius is going to kill me," Merlin muttered under his breath as he pushed his hand to his patched up forehead. He wrinkled his brow as he slowly took his hand away, seeming to become aware of all the patches covering him.

"I'm sure he'll forgive you. After all, you're lucky the bandits didn't kill you first," Arthur said. He opened his mouth to continue but Merlin beat him to it.

"The bandits! I'd completely forgotten about them," Merlin said. "You're alright, right, they didn't hurt you?"

The boy's big blue eyes stared at Arthur, searching him over as if he could see straight through Arthur's armor to see if he was concealing any injuries from him. It made Arthur worry that he might actually be able to see through his armor for a moment, but he quickly shook that thought from his head. You'd need to know magic to do something like that, and Merlin was clearly not an evil sorcerer.

"You were the one who fought them off, right?" Merlin asked uncertainly.

Arthur bristled at the thought of Merlin assuming he might not be able to fight off two bandits. He was the Prince of Camelot, he was born to take down more skilled warriors than those guys in his sleep. There was no way anyone like that could beat him in a fight, even if they did have magic.

Arthur barely managed to slam his mouth shut as he remembered that Merlin didn't know that he was talking to a prince. He thought he was talking to a Lord, and while that normally might be rather impressive, just a glance around the manor would tell anyone that the "Lord" of the manor was a rather sorry one. He shouldn't be surprised that Merlin was questioning him.

Even so, he couldn't help the irritated tone his voice took on. "Yes, I was the one who fought them off and saved your sorry, skinny backside, you idiot," Arthur said.

He could tell that his tone had sparked something inside Merlin. A fire seemed to light behind the boy's eyes as he stared up at Arthur's form that was still looming over Merlin.

"Sorry, _milord._ It's just that I've never seen or heard of a Lord riding out to save someone of my station, much less a supposed _reclusive_ Lord," Merlin said, clearly implying that he doubted Arthur's story.

Arthur wasn't entirely sure what it was about Merlin, but something told him that hiding the truth from him was going to be a lot harder than Arthur had anticipated.

Arthur shrugged. "Maybe because I'm not like the other Lords you've heard of," he said.

Merlin glanced over Arthur and his armor, raising his eyebrows slightly. "No, I suppose not."

Arthur had to resist letting out a huge sigh of something conflicting, mixed with relief and anxiousness at the same time. He felt relieved that Merlin seemed to accept his story, even if he did have his doubts.

Arthur was preparing to turn and leave, the awkwardness in the room just being too strong at the moment, when a rumbling sound came from the bed in front of him. He stepped forward, looking down close at Merlin as if he was inspecting him.

Merlin's face grew red, a strange blush spreading across his face. The embarrassment was quickly replaced with panic as Merlin made to sit up yet again. "I completely forgot! I was supposed to have had dinner with Gwen and Gaius by now!" He flopped his head back against the fluffy pillows, moaning in frustration. "I'm definitely dead now."

Arthur almost smiled at Merlin's distressed and whining tone. Almost. Instead he shook his head and crossed his arms, acutely aware that Merlin couldn't see him roll his eyes.

"I'll write a letter to send to them," Arthur said. Merlin seemed to perk up a little bit at the mention of sending word to Gaius back in Camelot.

Merlin shifted on the bed, his face taking on a look of deep thought. "What will you tell them?" he asked. Even Arthur could tell that he was worried what the news of him being injured would do to Gaius and Gwen, who were apparently still waiting for him back in the citadel. They must be worried sick about the boy by now.

Arthur squatted down next to the bed, his eyes level with Merlin's. "The truth. That you were attacked, and that you were injured but you're alright. I'll even tell them that you'll be staying here until you're better or Gaius arrives in two weeks time," Arthur explained. When Merlin didn't seem to have anything else to say, Arthur gently rested his hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Now, you just relax and I'll bring you something to quiet that obnoxious stomach."

The blush quickly came back, spreading all across his face and darkening his cheeks. Even though you'd have to be deaf not to hear the growl his stomach was making, he was obviously hoping that Arthur hadn't.

So much for hoping.

* * *

Alright here was chapter 8! See, I told you that I'd post on Thursday!...

Well, okay, yes it's Friday right now. But since it's three in the morning and I haven't slept, I'm still counting it as Thursday!

And wow! This chapter was about three thousand words long. I was hoping to shorten it a bit, but the chapter had to end where it wanted to end. Oh well.

Til' later!


	9. Chapter 9

Gwen wrung her hands together as she paced up and down Gaius's chambers in the low candle light. She had showed up an hour ago, expecting to have a nice dinner with Merlin and Gaius, probably some kind of soup to help Gaius, only to find that Merlin still wasn't back yet.

Throughout the day she had stopped by Gaius's, in between helping the Lady Morgana that is, and made sure all of his work was done and that he had everything he needed. Each time she stopped in she assumed Merlin would be back, and each time she was let down when she noticed the room was still empty aside from Gaius, who was now up, Gwen had no doubt that he would be pacing as well if he had the strength.

"Where did you say he went again, Gaius?" Gwen asked, just as she had five other times already.

Gaius leaned forward until his elbows were resting on the table, and Gwen was again reminded that Gaius wasn't at full health. "He went to take a few supplies to someone outside of the citadel. He should have been back by now, though," Gaius said, worry creeping into his tone.

Gwen assumed that he was worried about Merlin potentially getting lost, or maybe being attacked by bandits, and Gaius was worried about those things, because they certainly could happen. Yet it wasn't what truly worried him.

Gaius had sent his boy, his precious ward, _alone _to face the beastly Prince of Camelot. He knew that it was a dangerous and stupid thing to do, yet he had allowed Merlin to go anyways. The prince needed those supplies after all, and Gaius hadn't been up for a trip now.

But there were a million things that could go wrong with his plan. What if Merlin had used magic in front of someone on the way there, and someone had decided to enact their own sort of justice against the boy? Or worse, what if Merlin had used magic in front of the prince himself? What if the prince was having one of his worse days, where his control was precarious, and he attacked Merlin for him being a stranger in the manor?

No matter how hard he tried, Gaius couldn't hold back any of these thoughts from invading his mind. Images of his nephew being injured and alone came to him, only serving to make him worry even more.

As if she was sensing the thoughts swirling around Gaius's head, Gwen came over to the table and rested her hands on top of his. Her lips twitched up slightly, trying to give her normal reassuring smile although it fell flat.

"I'm sure that Merlin's alright. He probably just missed the gates closing for the night," Gwen said.

Although it was likely that Merlin had missed the gates, after all he had left later than Gaius usually did, it didn't seem likely enough.

Gaius didn't want to trouble the poor serving girl with his worries though. She seemed to be worried about Merlin enough without Gaius adding his onto hers.

"I'm sure you're right, Gwen," he said, although his voice didn't seem quite so sure. His eyes closed and his head turned back towards the table.

Gwen's face still held an anxious expression, her dark brown eyes resembling a forgotten puppy, as she walked towards the end of the table. She picked up a pot there and took a deep breath. "Well, no need for this to go to waste, right?"

She quickly scooped the soup out into two bowls and placed one in front of Gaius. With yet another wavering smile and glance towards the door they began to eat, quietly hoping that wherever Merlin was he was okay.

XXX

The next morning Merlin woke with a pounding headache and an all over, full body ache. His head felt like someone had taken a war hammer to the back of it, but it had nothing on the pain coming from his shoulder and torso.

Merlin opened his eyes while trying to take a nice, deep, calming breath. Instead of filling his lungs though, the air seemed to get caught in his throat and his chest felt like it had locked up. He re-opened his eyes, not quite remembering when he'd closed them, and coughed, which only serve to irritate his head, shoulder, chest, and stomach more.

He groaned out loud, although he hoped that it wasn't as pitiful as it sounded to him. Light was flooding the room from a window somewhere on Merlin's right, although he wasn't sure where exactly.

His head rolled towards the light, slowly taking in the room around him. That's when it hit him. These weren't his chambers or even Gaius's chambers. He let his eyes fall shut as he tried to remember exactly what had happened and where he was. He remembered waking up late and leaving to take supplies to Lord Edward. He remembered stopping by the creek to cool off. He remembered the bandits…

His eyes snapped open at a sound in the room. There was a feeling that he couldn't explain, possibly like he was no longer alone in the room or that he was being watched. He strained his ears for another sound, yet none reached his ears.

Slowly, so he didn't further aggravate his injuries or pounding head, he turned his head away from the window and towards his left.

A person decked out in full knight's armor was staring back towards him. He jumped and instantly regretted it as soon as the pain registered in his brain. Another moan released itself from his mouth even as he tried to hold it in.

The person jumped from where they'd been standing across the room to Merlin's bedside, their glove clad hands hovering above Merlin's as if fearing that if he touched him he would cause even more pain. At that moment Merlin was inclined to agree.

"Lord Edward, right?" Merlin asked breathlessly. A vague memory from the night before came back to him, the image of a knight standing in the firelight shimmering at the edge of his mind.

Lord Edward nodded his head, the helmet clanking against the other pieces of metal. Merlin pressed a hand to his head, trying to dull the pain that had taken up residence there, which wasn't helped by the noisy metal.

"Ugh. Do you always wear such noisy armor?" Merlin asked. Surely there was no reason for such bulky and loud equipment indoors, much less while standing in the chambers Merlin was currently occupying.

Lord Edward paused for a moment before hesitantly nodding his head. Merlin really wanted to roll his eyes but he stopped himself. He wasn't quite sure his head could handle that pain, and he figured it might be too disrespectful to not only roll his eyes at a Lord but to also do it to the person who he guessed was responsible for his rescue. At least, he was pretty sure that was what had happened.

"But you're indoors," Merlin pointed out lamely. "Is it really necessary?"

He didn't expect an answer, which was good considering Lord Edward didn't want to provide one. Instead, he walked over to a table somewhere towards Merlin's feet and out of his eyesight. He soon came back into view, holding a bowl of steaming soup in his hands. The bowl gave a slight _clink_ as he placed it on the night stand next to the bed.

Merlin's stomach gave a growl at the sight and smell of the soup, and then a painful lurch as the thought of making his abused stomach eat anything.

"I guess I fell asleep before eating last night, huh?" Merlin asked, although the growling in his stomach told him all he needed to know. Again, Lord Edward nodded, the metal clinking lightly again. "Sorry." He gave a sheepish grin to the lord.

Lord Edward still said nothing. He reached towards Merlin, slowly as if Merlin was a deer that might be spooked away and carefully slid his hands underneath his upper half. Merlin realized what he was doing and realized that it was going to hurt. A lot.

"No, no, no! I'm fine like this, really, I can-" Merlin was cut off as Lord Edward sat him up, propping him against the pillows that cushioned him against the headboard. He held his breath, trying to stop any sound from escaping him as his shoulder as jostled, only letting a few pained whimpers escape. He closed his eyes against the pain and hoped it would go away soon.

Merlin took a few breathes before opening his eyes to look at Lord Edward. "Was that really necessary?" Merlin asked. His head felt light like a feather although the pain still swirled around inside.

A snort came from under the helmet as Lord Edward turned towards the bowl on the table. Bending down, he picked up a tray from the ground and sat it across Merlin's lap before transferring the bowl onto the tray.

Lord Edward stood there for a moment, as if waiting for Merlin to start eating. He wasn't even sure how to go about eating, considering the hand he normally ate with was strapped to his chest. Which brought him to another point.

"Where's my shirt?" Merlin asked. Now that he was sitting up he finally realized that the only thing covering his chest had been bandages and the blanket that had now fallen off.

A gloved thumb jerked in the direction of the chair pulled up at the table. His blue tunic was draped over the high backed chair, along with his brown jacket. He released a small sigh of relief at knowing where his clothes were, which oddly gave him some small amount of security.

Lord Edward stood over him, clearly waiting for something. He gently shook his head as he remembered that he was supposed to be eating. The soup in the bowl did smell appetizing and it looked even better, but a small part of Merlin still didn't want to eat, even though he knew that he needed to. It was a feeling that he couldn't explain, other than that of a warning.

"Aren't you ever going to say something? I know you can talk," Merlin said, hoping to get him to speak. It was unnerving with him just standing over him like a big, menacing dog.

Whether he was _watching_ Merlin or_ guarding_ Merlin he didn't know.

Again, silence was his only answer. Merlin didn't hesitate to roll his eyes now, his frustration with the whole situation getting the better of him. "Too good to talk to someone like me now?" Merlin asked, hoping to rile an answer out of him by being annoying.

Lord Edward's entire body seemed to radiate annoyance, which pleased and impressed Merlin. He didn't even know you could show annoyance purely through body language alone.

"What would you like me to say?" Lord Edward growled. He didn't seem to be particularly angry enough to growl at Merlin, although his voice told another story.

Merlin forced himself not to flinch at the harsh growling voice. It wasn't a voice that Merlin would have imagined a knight having, much less a lord.

Merlin also forced himself to met Lord Edward's eyes, or at least where Lord Edward's eyes should be. With the helmet on and dark shadows being cast, it was hard to exactly see where they were.

"Ah," Merlin said lightheartedly. "So you can still speak!" he gave the lord a grin and prayed that the man would understand that he was only joking around with him. The last thing Merlin needed was for the lord to decide that he was too annoying to live.

The man standing above him shifted and uncrossed his arms, seeming to become more relaxed, even if it was just a tiny bit. "Yes, and it seems like you never stop."

Merlin raised his eyebrows a bit, despite the pain in his head. His tone seemed to be almost… teasing even through the growling tone. The fact that the lord of a manor, a rundown manor but still, was standing over his bed _teasing_ him was not lost on him.

"Always did have that problem," Merlin said cheekily. The lord's posture told Merlin that while the man might not appreciate his cheek, he was becoming more relaxed around Merlin. This went a lot ways toward making Merlin more relaxed as well.

A silence fell over the two people in the room. Lord Edward motioned for Merlin to begin eating, which he did albeit sloppily. Using his non-dominate hand forced Merlin to move more slowly than he usually would, and even then it spilled and sloshed over the edges. He felt embarrassed that he couldn't even eat a bowl of soup on his own now without making a mess, and it was only made worse by the fact that it was in front of someone of such higher status than him.

He'd never been ashamed of being a peasant, not one single time in his life. Maybe it was because of the fact that some people were born to be knights and princes and heroes, while some people were destined to live a simpler life as a farmer or a physician or even a servant.

In his heart and soul he knew that it didn't matter where you came from or the type of life you lived as long as you were a good person who wished to do good in life. His mind at the moment, however, was telling him something completely different.

He knew he should have been able to use his magic just as well as a knight used a sword, yet when it had really mattered, it had failed him. As he was lying in the rather large and unreasonably soft bed he became acutely aware of how drastically his magic had failed him, or he had failed his magic. If he couldn't trust himself to always be able to draw on his magic, then he really was just a helpless peasant that the lord above him believed him to be.

Somehow, being a monster was preferable to being helpless.

Once Merlin decided that he'd eaten all his stomach could handle at the moment, he handed it back to the waiting hands of Lord Edward. The lord didn't seem to be satisfied with the amount that he had eaten and Merlin was fearful that he'd somehow offended him, but he took the bowl away none the less. Merlin was too tired at the moment to care too much about hurting the lord's feelings, especially when his whole body hurt.

He felt his eyes beginning to close against his will, only managing to snap them open when he heard footsteps. His gaze fell on Lord Edward's retreating form, instantly more awake at the thought of being left alone.

"D-d-did you send word to Gaius, to let him know what happened?" Merlin asked. He had to try a couple of times before his voice was strong enough to call out across the room.

Lord Edward froze at the door upon hearing Merlin. He seemed to be avoiding turning around to face him although Merlin didn't have a clue as to why he would.

"Yes," he said his voice still as low and growly as before. He stood there, barely turning his head over his shoulder to see Merlin.

Merlin furrowed his brow at this. "Who did you send? I mean you obviously didn't go by yourself, and I thought you lived alone…" Merlin said, his voice trailing off as it gave out.

The annoyance seemed to come back full force in Lord Edward as he turned back to Merlin. "I sent a bird to deliver the message."

Merlin snorted in an attempt to hold in a laugh. "A bird!?" he asked incredulously.

Lord Edward shifted his weight, almost as if he was debating whether or not smacking Merlin would be worth it in his injured state. Merlin seriously hoped it wouldn't be.

"Yes, a bird. Or are you too stupid to even know how messenger birds work?" Lord Edward asked, his tone dropping even lower and becoming even more gravely.

A blush spread across Merlin's face, and he severely hoped that the noble across from him couldn't see it. He'd never thought of sending a bird to Camelot to deliver the message for them.

"Judging by the look on your face I'm going to take that as a no," Lord Edward said in a condescending tone. "You see, I write a letter here, attach it to a bird, and the bird flies all the way back to its mate and nest in Camelot."

Merlin clenched his fist and rolled his eyes. "Yes, thank you. I'm not five you know," Merlin said, although he hadn't really known exactly how messenger birds worked. Before that day he'd never really had a reason to know.

"You certainly could have fooled me with those manners," Lord Edward said, his voice taking on its almost teasing tone. Merlin still wasn't sure what to make of the man when he suddenly turned on his heels and left.

This was going to be a long recovery.

* * *

Welp, there y'all go! Sorry it's a day late, I was scouting out to take senior pictures yesterday, and all day today I was taking them. This is basically the first time I've got to sit down in two days because the rest of the time I was trespassing, climbing trees, laying in roads, and sitting in freezing cold waters all for the sake of pictures.

Anyways, another chapter where much doesn't happen. I feel like I should post more, but it's a pretty long chapter already, so I guess I'll just end it here.

Til' Later!


	10. Chapter 10

Arthur sighed as he took off his helmet and placed it on the table. It was rather hard to wear the full, complete armor at all times of the day, especially when he had to do the usual 'chores' of keeping the manor running, like cooking food, taking care of the horses, and making sure that Merlin was as comfortable as he could possibly be.

He had to hand it to the boy: he wasn't weak. Despite the fact that he had to be in a lot of pain, he kept it hidden with his snarky and sarcastic attitude. He talked to Arthur like they were equals, which only confused Arthur, and forced him to wonder if maybe the bandits had hit him too hard on the head for his own good. That was the only explanation he could come up for it.

He ran a clawed hand over his sweat soaked head and entertained the idea of a bath. There was a water pump in a small shed connected to the manor that allowed Arthur to get all the water he needed, but the large tub he required was in his room, where Merlin currently resided.

If Arthur was being honest, he was avoiding Merlin. The boy was very talkative and every time Arthur walked into the room he seemed to have something different to say. How one could come up with so much to say when they were unable to move from one spot, Arthur wasn't entirely sure.

From somewhere up above where he was, a shuffling noise sounded. Arthur tensed and strained his ears a bit. What in the world was that sound? It sounded almost like….

There was a loud thud from a floor above him, along with a low moan of pain. Arthur's mind instantly flashed to Merlin crumpled on the floor in pain up above him and in an instant he was gone.

He was half way there when he remembered he didn't have his helmet on.

Arthur spun around on his heels and raced back into the kitchen, snatching his helmet up off of the table. He sprinted up the stairs as he slammed it down on top if his head, not caring about the ringing it set off in his ears. A moment later he burst into his chambers, his eyes automatically scanning the bed.

The bed was completely empty. The covers were rolled up and twisted and only half on the bed. His heart began to pound louder in his ears until the blood rushing through was all he could hear.

Another low moan broke Arthur's trance like state. He ran over to the edge of his bed, searching for the cause of his worry, which he managed to find in a pile of blankets and water on the floor.

"What do you think you're doing you idiot!?" Arthur exclaimed as he rushed to bend down next to Merlin. His armor clanked together which elicited another moan from Merlin.

Merlin pried his hand from his aching head to look up at the man kneeling next to him. Arthur once again felt the urge to check that his whole face was covered, but he resisted the temptation.

"What does it look like, my lord?" Merlin asked, his tone somehow managing to make Arthur's new title sound vaguely like an insult. He waved his hand over himself, which Arthur now realized was covered in water from the jug lying next to him on the floor. "I was trying to get a drink."

Arthur remembered when he had came in earlier to check on Merlin the boy had still been asleep so he had left the jug of water and some food on the table across the room. He inwardly cursed his absent mindedness and the boy's strong stubborn streak. Why couldn't he have just left the food on the bedside table for him?

Arthur puffed out a burst of air from his nose, trying to calm himself down. Merlin seemed to tense a bit at the sound coming from Arthur, and he cursed himself again. Why was it so hard caring for injured people? He had absolutely no idea how Gaius did it all the time and for all these years.

"Can you stand?" Arthur asked once he was sure that his voice wouldn't be quite so growly.

Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur. The prince wondered how Merlin was even able to keep his eyes in his head with all the eyes rolling he did. "Of course I can. I just tripped a bit," Merlin said.

Arthur was reminded of the many times he had seen the boy trip while watching him through the mirror. "You have got to be the clumsiest person I've ever met," Arthur said as he gripped Merlin's good arm. With one swift heave he had Merlin seated on the bed, water still dripping off of him.

Arthur walked over to his wardrobe and began to dig for the smallest set of clothes he had. Several articles of clothing fell onto the floor as Arthur rummaged deeper and deeper for anything Merlin could wear.

"We've actually never met," Merlin muttered under his breath. Without the curse on him, Arthur never would have heard him.

"What?" Arthur asked, sticking his head out of the wardrobe. Merlin jumped, obviously not expecting Arthur to have heard him. Arthur, seeing that Merlin wasn't going to answer, asked the question again.

"I said that we've never actually met. You know, because you've always got all that armor on so I've never seen your face," Merlin said, waving a hand towards Arthur.

Arthur hadn't considered that Merlin might actually want to know what the person who saved him looked like, that he might want to know the face of the person he'd been staying with for a few days now. Should he show Merlin what he looked like? Did the boy deserve that much?

Arthur shook his head at the thought. What more did the boy deserve? He was staying in a prince's bed, eating food that he prince himself had prepared, and was having his injuries seen to by a prince. The boy should be on his hands and knees with gratitude.

Something told Arthur that it would take a lot more than any of that to bring the boy to his knees however.

Arthur bunched the shirt and trousers he had picked out for Merlin into a ball and tossed them to him. Merlin flailed for a bit, attempting to catch them with one hand.

"What are these?" Merlin asked, untangling them and inspecting them.

"Clothes," Arthur answered as though it was the simplest thing in the world, and to him it was.

"Yes, but why are you throwing them at me?"

Now it was Arthur's turn to roll his eyes, although it made no difference seeing as how Merlin couldn't actually see him with the helmet covering his face.

"Because the clothes you are wearing are wet and dirty. Or do people not care about that smell where you come from?" Arthur asked. His sensitive nose could smell the sweat the boy had accumulated over the past few days, and he could have certainly used a bath.

Merlin's face reddened at Arthur's comment. "Kind of hard to bathe when you've been confined to bed, _my lord_," Merlin said, "Not everyone can afford to have servants do everything for you."

Arthur scoffed at that. How he wished he still had servants to do everything for him! As much as he enjoyed cooking, which was a secret he hoped he'd take to his grave, he missed the day's where he could yell at a servant and they'd do the cooking for him. Or the cleaning, washing, water gathering….

"Does it look like I'm paying anyone to do everything for me?" Arthur asked.

Merlin gave Arthur a once over, his eyes noticing every mark, dent, and scratch in the man's obviously expensive yet neglected armor. He'd seen knights in Camelot all but threatened to beat their servants for such shoddy work on their armor.

"Not with armor like that," Merlin said, a small secret smile spreading across his face.

_This boy is lucky that he'd Gaius's ward,' _Arthur thought, _otherwise I might have to throw him out a window.'_

Arthur took a deep, calming breath, although he was surprised that it wasn't really needed. He should have been a ranging beast by now, not wanting to continue joking around with the peasant boy.

"Just get changed will you?" Arthur asked, hoping his voice sounded more annoyed than he really was.

Merlin's smile slid off of his face, and he dropped his gaze to the clothes in his lap. It was apparent that he was stalling changing.

Realized dawned on Arthur. Merlin's arm still wasn't healed enough for it to be out of the sling, much less for him to wrestle a shirt on. He also didn't seem to be used to the idea of people being in the same room while he changed.

Arthur cringed at the other thought that occurred to him. He was going to have to help Merlin _change. _He barely even dressed himself, much less dress other people. But the boy did need to get out of those dirty clothes now.

He quickly quieted the part of his mind that was telling him to just walk away and leave Merlin to solve his own problems, as he marched over to the bed. He gripped Merlin's good arm and raised it above his head. Merlin, sensing what he was doing, tied to raise the other arm.

Instantly, Arthur gripped Merlin's injured arm gently, hoping that this wasn't going to hurt Merlin as much as he knew it was going to.

"Try to relax," Arthur said lowly. "It'll make moving it much easier."

Merlin nodded his head, but his body stayed tense. He turned his head towards Arthur and gave a sheepish look. "Easier said than done."

Arthur sighed but he had figured that this would happen. He slowly began to take Merlin's arm out of the sling, trying not to move his shoulder too much. Gripping the edge of Merlin's yet again soiled blue tunic, which Arthur had put back on him while he had been in a deep sleep the other night, he pulled it slowly down Merlin's good arm before working it over his head. Arthur was again cursing himself internally. He should have never put the stupid shirt back on. But Merlin had seemed so uncomfortable laying there in bed without his shirt on, so after he had fallen asleep he had tugged it back on the boy. Merlin had slept completely through it, not even stirring once.

Arthur straighten Merlin's arm out a bit, ignoring the sound of pain he made as Arthur worked. Gently, Arthur tugged the shirt free from the injured limb. Satisfied that it was finally free, Arthur wadded it up and threw it across the room.

Getting Arthur's tunic on Merlin was a lot easier. The shirt was much too large on the scrawny boy and the arm holes were wider, better to fit Merlin's bird like arms in, leaving plenty of room for his arm to stay by his side.

He adjusted Merlin's arm back into the sling and then paused. Merlin quickly spoke up.

"I've got it from here," Merlin said. Arthur furrowed his brow. Now quite understanding what Merlin was talking about until he realized that the trousers Arthur had picked out were still laying in Merlin's lap.

Arthur felt _his_ face reddened now. "Oh, of course. I'll uh, I'll just be going," Arthur said as he nearly fled from the bed. No, he didn't flee. Princes don't flee, they make tactical retreats.

Either way, he was gone before Merlin could say another word.

XXXX

_A Few Days Earlier_

XXXX

Wind swirled around kicking up leaves into the night sky. A man sat in front of a large tent, staring into the fire. If he was surprised or startled at all by the sudden tornado appearing next to him, he showed no sign of it. Instead he reached over for a stick and began to prod at the flames.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you can't just do that whenever you want to," the man said. His tone was flat, no emotion coming through, and his eyes were worse.

A moment passed and neither of the two figures who had appeared in the clearing said a word. The young man raised an eyebrow at the silence that had met his comment. It wasn't like those two to ever keep their mouths shut.

"Sire," a voice wheezed. Instantly he spun around to see two of his men huddled together, both of them bloody messes. The man jumped up and raced towards the two. Before he could get there though, they dropped.

Blood covered almost every inch of the men; one of them even had blood pouring from his face in rivers, like a bear had had a personal vendetta against him. His hands instantly went for his wrist and his neck, checking for a pulse. He visibly relaxed upon finding one, even if it was slow and weak. At least he was still alive.

"Sire," the other man said again. The young man knelt down next to him, lifting his head to make it easier for the man to speak. The man swallowed a few times, cringing at the pain it sent through his body.

"What happened?" the young man asked. Anyone could see the very real concern shining in his eyes as he looked down at the two men.

The man looked up at the young prince. "We were attacked," he said, although that much was obvious.

"What could be a match for you two?" the young prince asked. These two men were trained in both magic and swords, what could have possibly gotten the best of them?

The man's eyes widened in fear. "It was a beast, sire. A terrible beast," the man said. Then, his eyes fluttered before rolling up in the back of his head and the rest of his body went limp.

"Ivan?" the young lord said. "Ivan!" The sounds of the young man yelling brought other people running, these ones dressed in the chainmail rather than the heavy furs that the other two men were wearing. Several people bent down and lifted the injured men from the ground, and rushed them to the physician's tent.

Nobody commented on the enraged look in the young prince's face. That was a very wise choice on their part indeed.

XXX

Alright guys, it's one in the morning, an hour after Halloween ended. Which means, I got off work about an hour ago and I'm super exhausted. Anyways, I hope you guys have enjoyed this chapter, and I love y'all!

Til' Later!


	11. Chapter 11

"Lord Edward?" Merlin asked as he stuck his head out of the chambers he had been confined to for a week now. When no reply came Merlin began to make his way out of the room as quietly as he possibly could.

Every other time he had attempted this, he had been thwarted by Lord Edward suddenly appearing from nowhere and forcing him back to bed. After about the sixth march back to the bed, Lord Edward had made explicitly clear what he would do if he caught Merlin trying to roam around again, most of which involved knocking him out and tying him to the bed posts. That would most certainly hinder the healing process, as Merlin had cheekily pointed out, much to Lord Edward's chagrin.

The hallway was deathly silent as Merlin crept along the wall, heading for anywhere that wasn't those damn chambers again. Honestly, Merlin wasn't sure why Lord Edward was even making such a big deal about his health anymore. His bruises were healing nicely and most were already fading from the dark blacks and purples to a sickly yellow color, which despite its look, actually meant they were healing.

Even his shoulder felt much better now. He had removed the sling himself a couple of days ago, against the Lord Edward's warnings. Merlin knew that dislocated shoulders hurt, but there was no need to make such a fuss for this long about it.

The only thing that gave him any problems were his ribs and even that was only when he moved too quickly or breathed too deeply. Not that he did either of those too often. No, Lord Edward had been there to stop that too.

Really Lord Edward had become like an omnipresent person who, excuse his pun, lorded over Merlin every second of the day. Merlin had no idea how he did it, unless he had magic or something, but Merlin no longer doubted Gaius words about Lord Edward knowing they had already been there a few short weeks ago.

His mind came to a screeching halt as he thought about Gaius. Why had he not replied back to Lord Edward's letter about Merlin being attacked and staying at the manor? Did he not care that his ward had been attacked? No, Merlin knew that Gaius loved him like a son and that he would be there for Merlin if he could. Maybe he hadn't even received the letter, or maybe it was too dangerous to travel the woods to get to the manor at this time. The last thing that Merlin wanted was for Gaius to get hurt trying to reach him.

No matter what the problem was, he was stranded in a manor with a strange lord who had an odd attachment to armor and who seemed hell bent on keeping Merlin confined to those chambers. It was like being a prisoner with a comfy bed and better food.

Merlin paused when he reached the stairs. He'd never been this far before, as Lord Edward had always managed to find him by now. Inside, Merlin was congratulating himself, while on the outside he was studying the stairs. He wasn't quite sure where the stairs would lead him, although he knew that he was going to find out.

With a self-satisfied smirk, he began to make his way down the stairs. Dust covered the floor, although there was a trail that was practically clear from where feet had cleared the path. He shuffled along the clear path, down the stair, noticing a lot of different scratch marks that littered the walls and floor. It was as if an animal had been released inside the manor and given free reign over the entire place.

Halfway down the stairs Merlin noticed that some of the things hanging on the walls had once been paintings, although dust, age, and sometimes even scratch marks made it impossible to tell what most of them had ever been.

Why on earth anyone would ever let their home get this bad, Merlin wasn't sure. The place didn't even seem livable sometimes, much less like a lord was currently living in it.

At the last step of the staircase Merlin realized that he had actually been in this hallway before. Back when he had first helped Gaius deliver supplies he had entered this hallway to get to the kitchens. This meant that if he kept going straight and out the large door at the end of the long hallway, then he could get to the entryway and out the front door. He could get back to Gaius, Gwen, and Camelot. All he had to do was reach that door.

Merlin glanced around the hallway, afraid that Lord Edward might have discovered his escape. This hallway was just as silent and empty as the last one, however, which helped reassure Merlin. Maybe Lord Edward had taken a stroll outside or something, although Merlin doubted that. He was supposed to be a shut-in recluse who didn't like people, so why would he go outside?

_Why would he basically hold me against my will here then,_ Merlin thought bitterly.

Merlin shook his head as he continued walking through the hall. His footsteps seemed like thunder in his ears, as did his pounding heartbeat. Surely if Lord Edward had some kind of magic alert system then he should have known that Merlin was leaving already.

As he passed by the door he remembered leading to the kitchen he heard something. It sounded like metal moving and water sloshing around inside coming from the other side of the door.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Merlin couldn't help but press an ear to the door. Suddenly the door disappeared, leaving Merlin's weight hanging in the air for a moment before he fell and slammed into the floor.

The metal stopped moving and the sound of water came to a stop. It was as if everything had suddenly stopped. Merlin sat up a bit, using his elbows to stare up at the figure casting the shadow in front of him.

It was Lord Edward, Merlin could tell, even if he was no longer wearing all of his armor. He stood with his back to Merlin, his body tense as a bowstring. Merlin looked up from the ground at the back of Lord Edward's head, noticing that he was bald and his skin was marked with dark, black, vein-like tattoos.

Merlin realized that this was the first time he had ever seen any part of Lord Edward's skin. He was normally fully covered by all of his heavy armor that it was impossible to ever even catch a glimpse of what laid beneath it and not for lack of trying on Merlin's part.

Lord Edward's body was still tense and Merlin wondered if he was fighting down the fight or flight instinct that Merlin was. His magic had bubbled up inside him again, making him acutely aware of how long it had been since he had last used it. Never before had he put off using it for this long. Then again, it had never behaved for this long to ever give him a chance.

"Um, Lord Edward?" Merlin called out softly. He wished that he could turn around and walk out of the room and just keep going until he reached the door to leave. His mother used to tell him that he was too curious for his own good sometimes.

The lord's head twitched a bit in Merlin's direction in acknowledgement. Merlin wasn't sure what he should do with this acknowledgement though. He noticed that there was a bucket of water on the table in front of the lord and clothes next to him. Water was dripping from Lord Edward's hands and head, leaving Merlin to assume that he had been bathing, or at least cooling down in the hot kitchen.

Should Merlin leave the lord to whatever it was he had been doing? Or should he just back out of the room and run while he still could?

Merlin couldn't decide what to do. It was as if his mind had shut itself off to everything other than breathing. Merlin's eyes drifted over Lord Edward's body again, looking for some sighs of what he should do. That's when he noticed that something seemed to be off about the lord.

The ungloved hand that Merlin had been trying to get a glimpse of suddenly clenched, as if the lord had sensed him staring somehow. Merlin jumped at the sudden action, his back bumping into the door frame. He swallowed hard, hoping that the other man in the room hadn't noticed.

"Yes?" the lord asked, almost too quiet for Merlin to hear. His voice was wavering and weak, not anything like the normally boisterous, gruff voice that Merlin had grown accustomed to. The voice set alarm bells off inside Merlin's head.

"Are you alright?" Merlin asked, not sure what else he should do or say. He felt like an intruder although it hadn't even been his idea to continue to stay in the manor.

Merlin noticed the way the lord's body seemed to get even tenser, if that was even possible. Against Merlin's better judgment, Merlin took a couple of steps towards the lord, holding his hand out as if to touch him. The noble flinched away from Merlin's reach, bringing his still clenched hand up behind his head. It almost appeared as if he were trying to hide from Merlin.

"Get away from me," he growled, taking several steps away from Merlin. Merlin was stubborn though, and the man moving away from him wasn't going to stop him.

"Alright, alright," Merlin said, deciding that staying where he was was probably the best thing he could do at the moment. "Just… can I do anything to help?" he asked.

Merlin's mother had always said he had a huge heart, and even if he hadn't always believed her he knew that seeing anyone so obviously distressed made him want to help. His mother was like that too though, and it made him happy that he could have something in common with her.

Now the only problem was figuring out how he could help the man in front of him. The man didn't want Merlin around him- Merlin could tell-, yet he was reluctant to leave. He felt like all the secrets and questions that had been building up since he had first walked into the manor were so close to being revealed and if he walked out now, then he'd never find out.

Another part of Merlin told him he should probably leave like he'd been told. His magic had been going haywire and seeing the marks and terribly tense way he held himself only made it worse. One side of his magic was whispering and hinting at darkness in the room, that the man in front of him was dangerous and Merlin should get to safety, while the other side was screaming at him to help, even if he didn't really know Lord Edward nor did he know how to help.

"Just leave," the voice growled in an angry yet resigned way. Lord Edward began to walk away from the table and around towards the door, never once turning his face in Merlin's direction. He swiped his helmet off of the table and placed it firmly on his head, once again concealing his face and setting alarms off in Merlin's mind.

"But you helped me out, right? Now it's my turn to help you," Merlin said, finally taking a step to block the lord's path, cutting off his way to the door.

The lord stopped in his tracks, not wanting to come any closer to Merlin, or for him to come any closer to him. He moved his clenched fists until they were in front of him, blocked from Merlin's sight by the rest of his body.

His long sleeved shirt obscured most of his skin, but the little that Merlin could see looked painful. There were dark black and silver shimmering vein looking lines running through his skin. A memory of his childhood friend Will being bitten by a snake once and the venom left behind in his arm surfaced to his mind as he noticed how similar they were to each other.

"You can't help me," he said, his voice closer to normal than it had been, if a bit sad. "There's nothing you can do."

Merlin furrowed his brow at the lord's voice. It sounded much younger than it usually did, leaving Merlin wondering how old the lord was. How old did you have to be to be a lord anyways?

Merlin thought about his magic that was swirling just underneath the surface. There might be something that he could do to help Lord Edward, even if he didn't know what was wrong in the first place. If magic hadn't been illegal, then Merlin could possibly do something to help him. Sadly it was though, and he wasn't sure he wanted to go around trying magic on a lord of Camelot.

"I could try," Merlin said, hoping that his voice wasn't as thick or heavy as it had sounded. Slowly, so as not to startle the lord, Merlin reached a hand out. He let it hover in the space between them, hoping that Lord Edward would make the next move.

Quick as a flash of lightening, Merlin found himself pressed up against the door, a strong arm held across his neck to prevent him from moving or saying much. He was stunned for a moment, too stunned to do anything but gasp like a fish out of water and weakly try to pry the arm away. His eyes, still wide with shock, roamed up until he was staring into the lord's helmet where his face should have been.

The holes of the helmet were dark, making the lord's eyes appear to be slightly demonic. Merlin wondered what the actual color of the lord's eyes was, because the darkness of the helmet almost led him to believe that they were red.

His face must have shown his confusion and shock, because the color in Lord Edward's eyes seemed to flash with something similar to regret mixed with bitterness and a strange sense of acceptance. It was as if he was as surprised as Merlin about his actions.

"I told you, you can't help me. Now you can see why you wouldn't want to," he said. His iron lock hold against Merlin's neck began to relax and he backed up from him to give him some breathing room. His arm stayed raised toward Merlin's neck, ready to slam him into the door again if require to.

Merlin realized that the lord must had mistaken his shock and confusion that was mostly about his eye color as having to do with the way he had forced Merlin up against the door. And Merlin had been surprised, yet he was still more worried about what was wrong with the lord to be too mad at him for shoving him into the wall.

"No," Merlin said, taking a step forward, his neck again pressing against Lord Edward's arm. Merlin wanted to show him that he did still want to help, even if he wasn't sure what was wrong. He just wasn't actually sure how to go about doing so, so he did the only thing he could think of: he stepped closer to the lord.

He quickly wiped the look of horror that must have been on his face, hoping that it had a more neutral or concerned look on it instead. The lord's eyes widened at Merlin's actions, as if he couldn't believe them.

Maybe Lord Edward was sick. Maybe that was why he had all of those vein-looking marks and why he secluded himself way out in the forest. It would certainly make sense as to why Gaius was the one who delivered his supplies all the time.

Panic spread across Lord Edward's expression, suddenly deciding to go on the defensive. He backed away further from Merlin, although it didn't matter how much distance he put between them as Merlin took a step forward to match it. "What do you think you're doing? Get back," the lord said. He was like a caged animal, and Merlin knew better than to approach a caged animal. But this man standing in front of him had helped him, healed him, and –dare Merlin say it- rescued him from those bandits. Had Lord Edward not came along when he did, Merlin could have… well, Merlin knew that nothing good would have come of it.

"What's wrong? Are you sick?" Merlin asked. He winced when he realized just what he had asked and how crudely he had asked it. The man was obviously hiding his sickness with all of his heavy armor, which couldn't be healthy for him, all because he was too ashamed of it to allow Merlin to see. The last thing Merlin needed to do was point out how sick he was.

The lord seemed to notice how Merlin had flinched because he paused for a moment. Merlin took Lord Edward's pause to mean that he was angry about him questioning his sickness, so Merlin continued.

"You don't have to talk about it, really. Sorry, sometimes I just say things without really thinking and-"

Lord Edward brought him to a stuttering halt with a single raised hand. Merlin fainting realized that he'd been babbling on a bit like Gwen did when she got flustered, which had the situation not been so tense, he would have found amusing or annoying.

A tense silence filled the air, so thick that he could have sliced through it with a sword. Both of them froze, neither of them quite sure where they should go from there in that moment. Merlin debated whether he should try to speak up again, but he feared more babbling would fall out.

"It's… alright," Lord Edward said, although his tone spoke otherwise. His body was still tense, his hands still clenched and hanging between the two of them in a warning. He took a few feet back from Merlin, his head cocked to the side curiously.

"I didn't hurt you, did I? Just then?" He gave a short nod of his head to the door he had pressed Merlin up against. His discolored eyes holding something close to concern, although Merlin didn't think it was truly for him.

The back of his head was throbbing softly, some of the pain from busting his head on the forest floor coming back to him. His shoulder hurt too, giving a painful twinge every time he moved a bit in the wrong direction, but neither one of those seemed to be bad enough to worry Lord Edward with.

"No, I'm fine," Merlin said. Lord Edward raised an eyebrow at him, clearly doubting Merlin's words, but he wisely chose to ignore the doubt. Merlin was thankful for it, he wasn't sure he could handle another day of constant supervision and bed rest.

Lord Edward nodded his head to Merlin's words, but he seemed to be distracted. "That's… that's good," he said. His eyes roamed back up to meet Merlin's eyes, which seemed to be even bluer by comparison. He seemed rather uncertain about where to go from there or rather how to go forward with what he was thinking.

"So I guess since you're almost healed by now," he started hesitantly, "you'll be leaving soon?"

There was something in the lord's voice, something Merlin couldn't really place. It was hopeful yet sad. It was a combination that should never be heard in a person's voice if you asked Merlin.

Merlin considered his words for a moment. He probably should be on his way soon, just as he had been planning to before. Gaius and Gwen were probably worried sick about him by now, and who knew how many of his chores that he did for Gaius had piled up by now.

Yet there was that sadness in Lord Edward's voice that Merlin just couldn't ignore.

Why should he be in such a hurry to get back to a place that was hell bent on killing him for who he was born as? Everyone expect for Gaius would rather kill him then hear him out, if they really knew who he was.

When he thought about it that way, it was more than slightly questionable as to why he had ever been in such a hurry to get back at all.

He bit his lip as he looked into the lord's uncertain eyes, which were staring down at the ground. Occasionally they would flit up and meet Merlin's eyes, only to shoot off when he noticed that Merlin was still looking at him.

"I guess I don't have to leave so soon," Merlin said. The lord's eyes darted back to Merlin's, quickly looking onto his gaze. Merlin shrugged at the badly hidden look of shock on the lord's face, only to wince when it cause a flash of pain to go through his shoulder. That was something that he was going to have to get used to.

Merlin suddenly felt the need to explain himself. "I mean, those bandits could still be out there, and with this shoulder I'm not likely to be able to do anything against them," Merlin said although that wasn't exactly the truth. He had his magic, but it was risky to use it against anyone.

"It might be best if I laid low, at least until Gaius comes in a week," Merlin said. "That is, if it's alright with you," he quickly added on, hoping he wasn't actually imposing on the lord.

The lord relaxed, the tension draining from his body as he sighed. "Yes, I think that should be alright," he said.

It was the least growly Merlin had heard his voice so far.

XXX

God such a long chapter. I know that a lot isn't happening in my chapters, but that's because of how I told the story in one long drawn out tale, without really of thinking of how I would separate it into chapters.

Til Later!


	12. Chapter 12

Arthur had felt a sudden relief at hearing Merlin's words. The thought of sending Merlin out there alone for the trek back to Camelot worried him more than he cared to admit. While it wasn't likely for those bandits to come back, Arthur had made sure of that, there were other threats out there. Everything from wild animals to sorcerers to mythical beasts roamed around in those forests, and it was apparent to Arthur that the boy had no training nor any weapon on him that he could use to defend himself with.

Even with that relief there was an underlying uneasiness. The image of him pushing Merlin back up against the door by his throat suddenly came back, along with Merlin's startled eyes, in full force. That wasn't a look that Arthur ever wanted to see in the peasant boy again, much less with him being the cause of it.

If Merlin stayed in the manor though, there was no guarantee that it wouldn't happen again. His temper was much shorter now, which was almost hard to believe considering how short it used to be, and he couldn't help but lash out at the things near him, whether that was a living thing or a painting on a wall. He also couldn't guarantee that Merlin would never discover his secret if he stayed.

There was also a part of Arthur that wanted to keep Merlin around for selfish reasons.

He'd been stuck in the manor for a little over three months, and in that time he'd only spoken to Gaius and the witch who had placed this horrible curse on him in the first place. Merlin was the first person his age- or near enough- that hadn't wanted to kill Arthur since this whole mess had started.

Arthur wondered if he should be worried about Merlin's lack of reaction to the threatening way Arthur had acted towards him moments ago. Maybe the boy was just used to it, which was a thought that made Arthur regretful of his actions and the slightest bit mad at who ever had made him that way, or maybe he just understood that Arthur was under a lot of stress. Merlin should at least be a smidgen afraid of Arthur, if not running for the hills from the mad man, not calmly discussing his stay in the manor.

If Merlin was going to stay in the manor, even if it was just for a week, then they were going to have to figure out living arrangements. There was only one truly useable bed in the manor, which Merlin was currently sleeping on in Arthur's chambers.

Arthur had allowed it to go on this long because the boy had been injured and slept a lot more than he did, thus needing a more comfortable place to sleep. That and he had a sort of fear about what Gaius would do to him if he found out his ward had been forced to sleep on dirty, dingy cushions and pillows while he had been injured.

Not that he would ever admit that thought.

The thought of spending another week on the cushions he'd pulled into the manor's library sent a pain down his spine. Three months before he would have rather die than sleep on ratty old cushions in a dim and dusty library while a peasant slept on in his plush, comfy, _princely _bed. But three months before he could have had almost anything in the world and almost anyone in the world to talk to, now his options were rather limited and Merlin, sadly seemed like the best choice.

Maybe Arthur could sleep on the makeshift bed for a while longer. He'd done it for a longer with worse conditions than these when he and the other knights were out on patrol. Who cared if Merlin was sleeping in his bed for that time?

Oh, well, these were thoughts for another time. He had more important things to do than stand around wondering where he was going to sleep. Like getting back to finishing what he had been doing before Merlin had wandered in.

Arthur clasped his hands together behind his back and tried to put on his most dignified face, although Merlin couldn't see it, with a hopefully dignified air surrounding him. Given that his hands and the rest of his body was still soaking wet, it was doubtful.

"Well, I'm going to finish up here. Why don't you…." Arthur's mind went blank for a moment, trying to come up with something for Merlin to do.

"Why don't you take care of the horses?"

Merlin's face went completely blank for a moment, as if Arthur was speaking another language and he couldn't understand it. "The horses?" he asked hesitantly.

Arthur tried to remind himself that the boy was new to the manor and probably forgotten all about the horse he had ridden there on. There had been more pressing matters at the time after all.

"Yes, the horses. Out in the stable?" Arthur said, forcing all the patience he could into his voice. He really didn't want to lose it on Merlin again, fearing what he might do next time it happened. If Arthur had anything to say about it, there would never be a next time.

"Right, right," Merlin said nodding his head. "And where are the stables exactly?"

Arthur sighed and motioned to the door. "Out the front door and around back. You should be able to see it fairly quickly," Arthur explained. The boy nodded his head, obviously glad to have a task to do and a reason to leave the rather awkwardly tense room.

Arthur was relieved that the boy had left as well. He relaxed even more once he heard the door that led to the entryway push open and shut.

Satisfied that he was finally alone, Arthur went back to what he had been doing: bathing. The large tub that was supposed to be used was still in his room, and seeing as Merlin had still been in there, he had avoided going and getting it.

Thus he had been bathing out of a bucket with a cloth when Merlin had walked in. He had been so focused on the water and washing the sweat and grime off of him that he had let his guard down. He had stupidly assumed that after having been forced back to bed several times, the boy would have known to stay put by now. Apparently he had assumed wrong.

Arthur should have been more alert. If he had been then Merlin would have never been able to sneak up on him had be actually been listening out for the boy. Then he never would have saw what little bit of Arthur he had.

At least Merlin hadn't seen all of him; although Arthur wasn't exactly sure what part of him that Merlin had seen. He didn't think that there had been enough time for Merlin to have seen too much of him, but he still worried over what little bit he _could _have seen. What did Merlin assume of him? There was no way he could have mistaken the dark purple and silver markings as anything but magic, unless he thought that Arthur was truly and deathly ill.

At least Merlin wasn't scared away by the obviously magical colored veins in his skin. Arthur wasn't sure what he would have done if Merlin had actually been frightened by him. He'd never hurt the boy on purpose, but that didn't mean that the beastly part of him wouldn't.

He wasted no more time as he quickly brushed the sweat from himself. It wasn't long before he was clean, or as clean as he was going to get, and decided he needed to find something else to do. With Merlin off to take care of the horses it left one less thing for him to do, which wasn't good. Down time allowed the beast to sneak up on him and caused him to tear up all sorts of things around the manor. That was one of the last things he wanted to do while Merlin was staying with him. Especially if the beast inside him wasn't able to tell the difference between a living Merlin and a non-living staircase banister.

The only thing he had left to do was find some place for Merlin to stay and make dinner. A short internal debate later and Arthur decided to begin dinner. He had no desire to go searching through the manor for some place for the boy to stay, which would no doubt be dusty and dirty work, right after finally ridding himself of the grime. It was a chore that could be worried about later.

XXX

Sunlight still shone down through the trees, although it was beginning to go down somewhere in the distance. There were still a couple of hours before the sun actually set, which gave Merlin plenty of time to take care of the horses.

Lord Edward had been right about spotting the stables. As soon as he came around the corner he could see thethem. They were smaller than Merlin had expected, possibly holding only four horses at a time, although with a manor that size, they would have surely needed more. He hurried over to the door and forced it open, peering into the musty stalls.

The smell of straw and horse dung wafted into his nose, reminding him of the summer months in Ealdor, when Will and Merlin had been in charge of taking care of the few goats and sheep they had around. Well, they said they were in charge, when in reality their parents had sent them there, knowing they were far less likely to get into trouble there.

Merlin wondered what Will was doing back home as he went about feeding the horses. He was probably resting by the river near their homes by now, having finished his chores early. Since the weather was warm and humid he was probably swimming, floating in the beautiful waters that rushed by the small village. His heart raced a bit as he thought about Will swimming alone in the river. What if he drowned while he was swimming, who would save him? No one really knew about their secret swimming hole, where the water currents were less strong and caves offered the perfect protection for Merlin to practice his magic, which was why they had chosen it. What would happen with no one around to help him now?

Merlin forced the thought from his mind and tried to focus on his task at hand. He recognized one of the horses in the stables as the horse he had rode there on, although it was brushed and washed and all around better taken care of than the last time he had seen it, and that was saying something. Someone had obviously put a lot of care into both of the animals.

The horse snorted happily when it spotted Merlin, clearly recognizing him from the days before. He grinned at the horse and patted its head, then ran his fingers through the horse's mane. Its dark, coarse hair felt good against Merlin's fingers, and Merlin found himself thankful that nothing had happened to the horse when the bandits had attacked.

The other horse in the stable snorted jealously, stomping his feet until Merlin looked at him. He was a beautiful horse, his brown fur shining healthily in the sunlight that made its way into the stables. Muscles rippled under the horse's skin, letting Merlin know that this was a high priced horse. He wondered how Lord Edward could afford such a horse when his home was in such disarray.

"Don't worry, I'll be with you in a moment," Merlin said to the horse. Was he insane for taking to a horse? He hoped that he hadn't hit his own head harder than he had originally thought.

The horse didn't seem satisfied until Merlin actually came over to it and began to pet it like he had the other one. It still seemed to be annoyed that Merlin had addressed the other horse before him, letting it be known by swishing his tail through the air.

After appeasing the jealous horse, to an extent anyways, Merlin walked over to the pitch fork that was leaning against a wall and began to shovel fodder out to both of the horses. The horse that Merlin had laid claim to, at least in his mind, seemed perfectly content to munch on the fodder, while the other horse was dissatisfied with it.

"Tough luck," Merlin muttered to it as he scooped out even more. "Cause that's all we got." The horse stomped his feet at Merlin and reached its large head over, gently snipping at his pockets.

Merlin shooed his away with a gentle shove. The horse seemed intent on getting a treat from him though, and shoved back against the boy. Merlin fell and sprawled out on the ground, glad no one had seen his less than graceful moment.

The horse above him twitched his tail and whinnied happily, almost like a laugh.

Okay, so no one who could speak saw him.

Dusting himself off, he stood and pointed a finger at the horse. "That wasn't very nice you know," he said in what was supposed to be his most stern voice. Instead it sounded like he was getting on to a defenseless kitten.

Abandoning his attempts at discipline, he walked back over to the wall and leaned the pitchfork back up against it. His hand brushed against leather and he noticed two saddles, one being the one he had used to get there on, while the other one was much showier, red and even gold colors adorning several parts of it, although the supple leather alone spoke of its high quality.

Merlin ran his fingers over the expensive saddle, trying to figure out where it had come from. It was well worn; yet taken care of, like someone had had it for a long time. He wondered why the lord had such a great saddle lying around out in the stables when it should have been out being used. What was the point of having such a great horse or saddle if no one was ever going to see them or you would never use them?

Merlin shook his head at the questions that were swimming around his mind. Lord Edward didn't seem to be the most open person about his life, and possibly with good reasons if the purple, black, and silver veins were anything to go by. His mother always did say, 'keep it secret, keep it safe,' although that was normally about magic, which was easier said than actually done.

He waved over his shoulder at the horses that were both still watching and began to march up to the manor. The manor was ever more out of control in the back than it had been in the front. Trees were bending and broken while some stood proud and tall with leaves and branches stretching up to the heavens. Grass was as tall as Merlin's waist in some places, gently blowing in the slight breeze.

It was wild but beautiful.

The back of the manor looked similar to the front, as ivy and black marks grew all over the place speaking of age and neglect. Merlin supposed taking care of a whole manor by oneself was an awful lot of work. It was hardly a wonder that it was a little out of control.

He hurried back into the manor, hoping that the feeling of eyes following him would go away. It haunted him all throughout the manor, but it seemed to be extremely prevalent outside. Maybe it was the abandoned feel to the manor that made Merlin's magic tingle and set the rest of him on edge. Either way he would feel a lot better once he was indoors.

Quickly, he shut the door behind himself, grunting at the force it took to shut it. There had to be an easier way of shutting such a heavy door without using so much force.

The entryway fell into darkness again, the setting sun letting in even less light than the first time he'd been there. Merlin forced himself to keep his hands at his sides rather than putting his hands out in front of him into the dim room.

He managed to navigate his way across the room without running into any of the old suits of armor or rather random furnishings that littered the place. Now that he looked closer at the room and observed it a bit more. It appeared as if some of the furniture was placed throughout the room in a rush and forgotten about.

Sounds began to come from the kitchen, letting Merlin know that Lord Edward must still have been in the kitchen. A couple of bangs sounded from inside, the metal cooking pans crashing together.

Merlin wondered if he should go in and offer to help in cooking dinner. It seemed wrong for a lord to be cooking for him, especially since it was an activity that his mother and he used to split. Besides, if Lord Edward was busy cooking dinner then he'd never notice Merlin going to take a look around the manor.

And Merlin always was curious.

Despite Merlin knowing that it would probably be in his best interest to go back and tell Lord Edward that he had finished his tasks, he kept going. There were so many doors down the hallway that they couldn't all lead to bedchambers, or at least Merlin thought. He tried to open up one of the doors, but it was either locked or jammed shut.

"What is it with this place and doors?" Merlin thought as he tried to force the door open. No matter how hard he pushed against the old wooden door it wouldn't budge. Sighing, he went on to another door.

It seemed like all the doors that he passed by were stuck shut like the first. Maybe all of them in this hallway were jammed expect for the kitchen door? What was the point of even having all of these rooms if you couldn't even use most of them? Not that one person living in the manor would necessarily need all of them.

Merlin shook his head at another unsuccessful shove against a door. The wood creaked and groaned, and Merlin was sure that a few more good shoves would be enough to force the door open. Either that or break the old wooden door frame, which was something that Merlin was willing to do. He didn't want Lord Edward knowing he had been sneaking around after all.

Passing up exploring the rooms closest to the bedchambers, he headed down deeper into the dimly lit hallway. The sun had almost completely set now, leaving almost no light to see by at all. Faintly he wondered if he should use magic to see by or open the doors he was passing by. It would be as simple as a flash of his eyes to open one of the doors with magic, yet he was somewhat reluctant to do so.

Lord Edward had been right there every second of every day while he was healing, whether it was to try and force the boy to eat (with actual force) or force him back to bed (with actual force yet again). What was to stop him from walking up behind him without him knowing and witnessing his display of magic?

A flash of Lord Edwards's vein like scars flashed through his mind. It was possible that they weren't the product of illness, but rather magic wasn't it? That could mean that the lord himself had magic and he might even understand why Merlin had been born with magic, even though Gaius didn't. Or it was possible that Lord Edward had been attacked with magic, leaving the vein-like scars behind. Either one of them could explain why his magic sometimes had the reaction it did when he was near, and certainly explain why he lived out in the manor all by himself.

Again, Merlin shook his head. He didn't need to be thinking about all those things right now. Instead he should be focusing on exploring the manor like he had been originally.

Gathering up a small amount of magic, Merlin held out his hand, palm up, to cast a spell to help him see. Before he could do so, however, a voice sounded behind him.

"What are you doing up here?" Lord Edward asked. Merlin spun around, dropping his hand a he did so and praying to anyone who was listening that his eyes were still blue.

Thankfully they were, and they were also taking in a very annoyed lord. His arms were crossed over his chest, standing in a position that clearly demanded an explanation. His eyes still seemed to be almost glowing red through the holes of helmet, making Merlin reconsider his stance on the Lord having magic.

"I was just, uh," Merlin stuttered. His mind cast around for a reason to even be up here in the first place, much less a better reason than sneaking around. "Going to wash up?" he said, although it was more of a question than an answer.

"Wash up?" the lord parroted.

"Yeah, wash up!" Merlin said, his voice getting more excited as his mind gained more speed. "I remembered that there was some water in the chambers I've been staying in and thought I could do with a little washing before joining you in preparing dinner," Merlin said. He was just happy that he had thought of such a quick and believable lie. He doubted that his tone was believable, for it was much too quickly spat out to be a believable excuse.

"So what are you doing down here?" the lord asked.

Merlin blinked owlishly at him. Hadn't he just explained what he was doing? The lord rolled his eyes at the boy's slow understanding. "Down here?" Merlin asked.

The lord unfolded his arms in annoyance and placed his feet even further apart. "Yes, down here. The chambers you've been staying in are back there," he said, jerking his gloved finger back in the direction they had come.

Understand spread across his face, finally realized what the lord had been asking: why was he so far into the manor? Merlin looked over the lord's shoulder to where his thumb was pointing. He hadn't realized quiet how far he had roamed down the dark hallway until he glanced down and saw the door that led to the chambers quite a ways down.

Merlin blinked again and smiled a tiny smile. "Oh, right," he said sheepishly. He hoped that the pure look of confusion on his face would convince the lord that it was an honest mistake.

It seemed to work as the lord sighed and shook his head at the boy. "Just hurry up then. Dinner's almost done," he said, side stepping to let Merlin through. He nodded his head and gratefully shot off down the hall.

* * *

There's chapter 12 up now!

Can I just say that I love all of the great response I've gotten from this story? Never did I expect this story to have almost 100 follows or nearly fifty reviews. You guys are the very best!

Til' Later!


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